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When age is jocond it makes sport for death.
When age is jocond it makes sport for death.
Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him.
Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him.
But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
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But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
Casts off its bright skin yearly like a snake.
Fear not the future, weep not for the past.
Fear not the future, weep not for the past.
By heaven you have destroyed me, my friends!
By heaven you have destroyed me, my friends!
A sleepy master makes his servant a Lowt.
A sleepy master makes his servant a Lowt.
Go West, young man! Go West.
Go West, young man! Go West.
Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath a wherefore.
Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath a wherefore.
