John Webster

(1578 - 1632 / London, England)

Vanitas Vanitatum - Poem by John Webster

All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth;
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites!
Sweetest breath and clearest eye,
Like perfumes, go out and die;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain ambition of kings
Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,
And weave but nets to catch the wind.


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Read poems about / on: birth, spring, wind, sun, time, flower



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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