Love and Life

by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester

 

All my past life is mine no more ;
   The flying hours are gone,
Like transitory dreams given o’er
Whose images are kept in store
   By memory alone.
 
Whatever is to come is not :
   How can it then be mine ?
The present moment’s all my lot,
And that, as fast as it is got,
   Phyllis, is wholly thine.
 
Then talk not of inconstancy,
   False hearts, and broken vows ;
If I, by miracle, can be
This livelong minute true to thee,
   ’Tis all that heaven allows.
 
John Wilmot | Classic Poems
 

[ Homo Sapiens ] [ Love and Life ]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 


 

 

 
 
 
 

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