Thomas Love Peacock on Retirement
1785–1866 England
← All quotes by Thomas Love Peacock
4 quotes
Man yields to death; and man's sublimest works
Must yield at length to Time.
Time is lord of thee:
Thy wealth, thy glory, and thy name are his.
Time, the foe of man's dominion,
Wheels around in ceaseless flight,
Scattering from his hoary pinion
Shades of everlasting night.
The present is our own; but while we speak,
We cease from its possession, and resign
The stage we tread on, to another race,
As vain, and gay, and mortal as ourselves.