O' the seasons toll is like to fester,
on a beach with summers lite the jester.
be kind dear sister of grace and figure,
for the days shall wear your present luster.
once beauty marked the distant bather and
sand was kind and in her favor.
but now her charms are wrapped forever
in terry towels and childrens tether.
so drink the light and scorn the weather
life is short when summers over.