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Poem by Bryan Waller Procter


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SIT down, sad soul, and count
The moments flying:
Come,tell the sweet amount
That s lost by sighing!
How many smiles?a score?
Then laugh, and count no more;
For day is dying.

Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,
And no more measure
The flight of Time, nor weep
The loss of leisure;
But here, by this lone stream,
Lie down with us, and dream
Of starry treasure.

We dream: do thou the same:
We lovefor ever;
We laugh; yet few we shame,
The gentle, never.
Stay, then, till Sorrow dies;
Thenhope and happy skies
Are thine for ever! 



Bryan Waller Procter


Bryan Waller Procter's other poems:
  1. Golden-Tressed Adelaide
  2. In France
  3. The New-Born Baby's Song
  4. The Hunters Song
  5. The Watch


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