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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448947" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>All My Past Life...</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448947" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">All my past life is mine no more,<br>The flying hours are gone,<br>Like transitory dreams given o'er,<br>Whose images are kept in store<br>By memory alone.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448947" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What ever is to come is not,<br>How can it then be mine?<br>The present moment's all my lot,<br>And that as fast as it is got,<br>Phyllis, is wholly thine.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448947" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then talk not of inconstancy,<br>False hearts, and broken vows,<br>Ii, by miracle, can be,<br>This live-long minute true to thee,<br>'Tis all that heaven allows.</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=Lord+John+Wilmot">Lord John Wilmot</a></strong></div>

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