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.

The time that 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 only thine.

Then talk not of inconstancy,
...False hearts, and broken vows;
If I by miracle can be
This live-long minute true to thee,
...'Tis all that Heaven allows.

By John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester