Chapter 401 of 1414 · 54 words · ~1 min read

IV.

Then sore harass'd, and tir'd at last, With fortune's vain delusion, O, I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, And came to this conclusion, O: The past was bad, and the future hid; Its good or ill untried, O; But the present hour, was in my pow'r And so I would enjoy it, O.