Set upon the finger
Of woman, man and child
Gleams a golden circlet
Pure and undefiled

‘Tis the precious, passing hour,
Sixty diamond minutes crowned;
Yet how oft the circlet falls,
Heedless, on the stony ground,
Passed, unnoticed, by the way—
Lost, but never found.

Resting on the high brow
Of woman, man and child,
Glistens bright the jewel,
Hand hath not defiled.

There three lustrous gems outshine:
Pearl of youth, with peerless sheen;
Manhood’s sparkling sapphire ray,
Diamond of old age, serene;
Yet how soon these priceless gems,
Listless fall unto the ground,
Mingling with the sordid dust—
Lost, but never found.