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. 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, Phillis, 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 Heaven allows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLOUGHER [OR PLOWER] by PADRAIC COLUM WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE by JOHN DONNE CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE DAFT DAYS by ROBERT FERGUSSON THE RUSTIC LAD'S LAMENT IN THE TOWN by DAVID MACBETH MOIR |