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John Dryden (Джон Драйден)


Life a Cheat


When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat;
Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:
To-morrow's falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blessed
With some new joys, cuts off what we possessed.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And, from the dregs of life, think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
I'm tired with waiting for this chemic gold,
Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. 



John Dryden's other poems:
  1. On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk
  2. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
  3. On the Monument of the Marquis of Winchester
  4. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
  5. A Song (High State and Honours to others impart)


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