Sonnet, All Things Must Past (From, The Lost Sonnets) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

All things must past what of day is here born
First it gives pleasure and then it is gone,
Like a glow from dawn's new early pylon
Light of the day that to dark is forsworn;
All what to fate is impaired and forlorn
Turning to echoes like fading carillon,
Forgot in darkness what once was of dawn
First it was merry - but now it is shorn.

Dwell not on that - but forget like wish,
All must wither as this summer so sweet
That with colors and beauty down will treat;
Like every thought that will drift from a mind,
Love is the thing that gives most anguish
And like purest of truth sometimes is blind.