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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Change</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The voice which I did more esteem<br>Than music in her sweetest key,<br>Those eyes which unto me did seem<br>More comfortable than the day,<br>These now by me as they have been<br>Shall never more be heard or seen,<br>But what I once enjoyed in them<br>Shall seem hereafter as a dream.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">All earthly comforts vanish thus,<br>So little hold of them have we;<br>That we from them, or they from us,<br>May in a moment vanished be:<br>Yet we are neither just nor wise,<br>If present mercies we despise;<br>Or mind not how there may be made<br>A thankful use of what we had.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=George+Wither">George Wither</a></strong></div>

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