THE SAME CONTINUED
 And then fate strikes us. First our joys decay.
 Youth, with its pleasures, is a tale soon told.
 We grow a little poorer day by day.
 Old friendships falter. Loves grow strangely cold.
 In vain we shift our hearts to a new hold
 And barter joy for joy, the less for less.
 We doubt our strength, our wisdom, and our gold.
 We stand alone, as in a wilderness
 Of doubts and terrors. Then, if we be wise,
 We make our terms with fate and, while we may,
 Sell our life's last sad remnant for a hope.
 And it is wisdom thus to close our eyes.
 But for the foolish, those who cannot pray,
 What else remains of their dark horoscope
 But a tall tree and courage and a rope?
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXV
written byWilfrid Scawen Blunt
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt





