“Ah fading joy, how quickly art thou past!,” from The Indian Emperor

AH fading joy, how quickly art thou past!

Yet we thy ruine haste:

As if the Cares of Humane Life were few,

We seek out new,

And follow Fate that does too fast pursue.

See how on ev’ry Bough the Birds express

In their sweet notes their happiness.

They all enjoy and nothing spare;

But on their Mother Nature lay their care:

Why then should Man, the Lord of all below,

Such troubles chuse to know,

As none of all his Subjects undergo?

Hark, hark, the Waters fall, fall, fall

And with a Murmuring sound

Dash, dash, upon the ground,

To gentle slumbers call.