We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.
Dreading that climax of all human ills the inflammation of his weekly bills.
I have had, and may have still, a thousand friends, as they are called, in life, who are like one's partners in the waltz of this world -not much remembered when the ball is over.