Lord John Wilmot

Lord John Wilmot

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

от·
Tell me no more of constancy,
The frivolous
Of old age, narrow jealousy,
Disease, and want of sense
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Here lies our Sovereign Lord the King,
Whose word no man relies on,
Who never said a foolish thing,
Nor ever did a wise one
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Absent from thee,
I languish still;
Then ask me not,
When I return
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I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
Since that poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born
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Give me leave to rail at you, -I ask nothing but my due:
To call you false, and then to
You shall not keep my heart a day
But alas
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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
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Love a woman
You're an ass
'Tis a most insipid
To choose out for your
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