Fade, flowers, fade! Nature will have it so; 'tis but what we in our autumn do.
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
And keeps the palace of the soul.
Gods, that never change their state, vary oft their love and hate.
With wisdom fraught; not such as books, but such as practice taught.
All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.