When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat;
Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:
To-morrow’s falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blessed
With some new joys, cuts off what we possessed.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And, from the dregs of life, think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
I’m tired with waiting for this chemic gold,
Which fools us young, and beggars us when old.
(John Henry Dryden)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Life Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Youth Poems, Hope Poems, Gold Poems, Lies & Deceit Poems, Running Poems, Trust PoemsBased on Keywords: falser, chemic, cozenage