POETRY.

FOR THE ENQUIRER.
{"character_count": 1829, "word_count": 329, "ccnet_language_score": [0.8788999915122986], "ccnet_perplexity": [2082.699951171875], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
We talk of love and pleasure, but Iis all A tale of faIsehoOd. Percirai. Oh, cah it be that Love 's Gaiihless dream; A rapture transient as a meleOr's glean; A bubble aoa"gat" summer stream

 But broken 6y auiUmnal colds ? Say, sister Fates say, is i, thus they flee; These hopes and mortal joys which ye O'ersee? Is love so vain ?-,hen hapIess wighs are we

 Whom love and such like pleasure holds. And aN thus false ' ah! yes, 'lis even so: While down the rapid stream of life we go, The voice oi mi, tn preIudes the voice of wo,

 And proves the harsh asserIio" true. We talk ofpleasure. Like Ilie birds that sing At morn or even, tn the maiden spring, We little heed the rush of Times gray wing,

 Till age assumes its silver hue. Loves joys! loves pleasures! who would dream ol these,

 That they were feeting as the summer breeze? Who dream that every chilling wind would freeze

 The cords tha, bind the hearts of youth? Oh, wl.o would dare before the world reprove The warmth, the ardent zeal of early love? These earthly joys-li(e's waning lamps may prove

 That they are false, in very truth. Such forsoo.h they are. The path of pleasure lies Through wales of ,ears-bleak storms of trouble rise With f,(ul moans, and expectation dies

 When lie puts on its garb of gloon. Thus seasons roll, and youth forever gay, Would look on life, a ceaseless, cloudless day: Till now old age comes on, and slow decay

 Hath lurned their footsteps to the tomb. Your hopes false, ye youths, and false the joys Ne seek ;-ike empty bubbles, gliiering toys, Their seeming charms your slightest touch destroys. Do these? do pleasures lead you on? ah! where 2 Aud life is short--lhen think how vain is all Ye seek of pleasure; flowers fade and fall; ''The fAirest scenes clad in ruins paIl;'' The grave-go read your sentence there.

 JUNO.