Ode To Hippo

Gather ye jepetas while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And the government that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious Hippo, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go steal, lie and plunder:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever wonder.