THE HOURGLASS---Ben Johnson
Do but consider this small dust,
Here running in the glass,
By atoms moved;
Could you believe that this
The body was
Of one that loved?
And in the Mistress flame playing like a fly
Turned to cinders
by her eye?
Yes; and in death, as life, unblest,
To have expressed,
Even ashes of lovers find no rest.
HOURGLASS--Sainuel Taylor Coleridge
0 think fair maid! these sands
In slender threads adown the gless,
Were once the body of some swain,
Who loved to well and lov'd in vain,
And let one soft sigh heave thy breast
That not in life alone unblest
E'en lovers' ashes find no rest.
THE HOURGLASS: Advice of Thrice Married Grandmother
Oh think, fair daughter of those sands that pass
in slender threads down this old hourglass
measuring my many times in passion I have lain;
for though the pleasures long have passed, it surely was my gain.
Though these once firm and tender breasts
now lay. . . flat upon my chest
And as for Church, pure crap, Ill die unblessed
wisdoms shown to me which way is best;
the thoughts of past joys, of all those men,
memories I savor 'til the end
See how the sand of time have overthrown
and in my fate, you see your own;
make haste and love, there is no greater joy;
before, my dear, the sands of time your flesh destroys.