Vain Imaginings

We have grown old

Time will not wait

For us, who caught

Its drift too late,

Who spent like fools

And lent like Kings

Purblind with vain imaginings.

 

For though each cup

Would spill the brim

At every sup

Of every whim,

What fool could see

His own intent -

Each shallow draft the level spent.

 

And now, like beggars

Caught in need,

We hoard the dregs

Of every creed

And only taste

The waste of Kings

Purblind with vain imaginings.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Marie]

It's so easy to be generous when the well is full. And then the cup is broken...