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Poem by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester Love and Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams giv'n o'er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that 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 only thine. Then talk not of inconstancy, False hearts, and broken vows; If I, by miracle, can be This live-long minute true to thee, 'Tis all that Heav'n allows. John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester's other poems:
Poems of the other poets with the same name: 3930 Views |
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