Fancy

I dreamt the most improbable of fancies:
Two yet unknown saints did argue their cases.
The respectful yet fiercest of adversaries
In human affairs contended their places.
Saint Everlast still boasted of his order;
While Quicksand would praise necessary change.
Quoth one, 'what is must be, there is no other'.
Th'other, 'stability to man is strange'.
'Plato aids me', cried one's exasperation;
'Truth holds above this illusory world'.
'All is becoming' was the protestation
Of him who Heraclitus would unfold.
Thus woke I recollecting my impressions;
Convinced I was that time mocks human passions.