All My Past Life ~John Wilmot

All My Past Life… – John Wilmot

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.

What ever 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,Phyllis, is wholly thine.

Then talk not of inconstancy,

False hearts, and broken vows,Ii, by miracle, can be,

This live-long minute true to thee,’

Tis all that heaven allows.

~ All My Past Life… – John Wilmot

Written 1789



Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)

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