دانلود آهنگ Hourglass For Diana از Current 93

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My life is measured by this glasse, this glasseBy all those little Sands that through passeAnd see how they press, see how they strive, which shallWith greatest speed and greatest quickness fallAnd see how they raise a little Mount, and thenWith their own weight do level it againBut when they have all got thorough, they give overTheir nimble sliding downe, and move no moreJust such is man whose houres still forward runBeing almost finished 'ere they are begun;So perfect nothings, such light blasts are weThat ere we are, ought at all, we cease to beDo what we will, our hasty minutes flyAnd while we sleep, what do we else but die?How transient are our Joys, and how short their day!They creep on towards us, but fly awayHow stinging are our sorrows! Where they gainBut the least footing, there they will remainAnd how groundless are our hopes, how they deceiveOur childish thoughts, and only sorrow leave!and how real are our fears! They blast us stillStill rend us, still with gnawing passions fill;How senseless are our wishes, yet how great!With what toil we pursue them, and with what sweat!Yet most times for our hurts, so small we seemLike Children crying for some MercuryAnd this gapes for Marriage, yet his fickle headKnows not what cares wait on the Marriage bedAnd this vowes Virginity, yet knows not whatLoneness, grief, and discontent attends that stateDesires of wealth anothers wishes holdAnd yet how many have been choked with Gold?This only hunts for honour, yet who shallAscend the higher, shall more wretched fall?This thirsts for knowledge, yet how is it bought?With many a sleepless night and racking thoughtThis needs will travel, yet how dangers layMost secret Ambuscados in the wayThese triumph in their Beauty, though it shallLike a pluck't Rose or fading Lilly fallAnother boasts strong armes, alas Giants haveBy silly Dwarfes been dragged unto their graveThese ruffle in rich silk, though ne're so gayA well plume'd Peacock is more gay than theyPoore man, what Art! A Tennis ball of Errour!A ship of Glasse, toss'd in a Sea of terrour!Issuing in blood and sorrow from the wombCrawling in tears and mourning to the tomb!How slippery are thy paths, and how sure thy fallHow art thou Nothing when thou art most of all?!?

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