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John Wilmot - Love and Life
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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.
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