The Bubble

by William Allingham

See, the pretty Planet!
Floating sphere!
Faintest breeze will fan it
Far or near;

World as light as feather;
Moonshine rays,
Rainbow tints, together,
As it plays;

Drooping, sinking, failing,
Nigh to earth,
Mounting, whirling, sailing,
Full of mirth;

Life there, welling, flowing,
Waving round;
Pictures coming, going,
Without sound.

Quick now! be this airy
Globe repell’d!
Never can the fairy
Star be held.

Touch’d—it in a twinkle
Disappears!
Leaving but a sprinkle,
As of tears.