A world I did not wish to enter
Took me and poised me on my centre,
Made me grimace, and foot, and prance,
As cats on hot bricks have to dance
Strange jigs to keep them from the floor,
Till they sink down and feel no more.
A world I did not wish to enter
Took me and poised me on my centre,
Made me grimace, and foot, and prance,
As cats on hot bricks have to dance
Strange jigs to keep them from the floor,
Till they sink down and feel no more.
“To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what far country does this morrow lie,
That ’tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
‘Tis so far fetch’d this morrow, that I fear
‘Twill be both very old and very dear.
To-morrow I will live, the fool does say;
To0-day itself’s too late, the wise liv’d yesterday.”
Abraham Cowley | After the Latin of Martial