Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.
Pleasure
But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment whitethen melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbows lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm. Robert Burns