All that's bright must fade,—

The brightest still the fleetest;

All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): All that's Bright must fade.

Spangling the wave with lights as vain

As pleasures in the vale of pain,

That dazzle as they fade.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lord of the Isles. Canto i. Stanza 23.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,

Where wealth accumulates, and men decay.

Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,—

A breath can make them, as a breath has made;

But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,

When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Deserted Village. Line 51.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Sonnet xviii.