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 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
238
TO BIANCA.
“Tu ne quæsieris, scire nefas.”
Cease to peer into the future, nor torture yourself with care
Of fancied delights or troubles that never may fall to your share!
The present alone is ours; in that let us live content,
Enjoying the daily blessings the gods for the moment have lent.
Of fancied delights or troubles that never may fall to your share!
The present alone is ours; in that let us live content,
Enjoying the daily blessings the gods for the moment have lent.
And cease to torment your spirit with that which has passed away,
The love that has vanished, the passion, the folly that led you astray;
Not hoping too much, not regretting—for what is more vain than regret?—
And, never the gladness forgetting, the pain and the sorrow forget.
The love that has vanished, the passion, the folly that led you astray;
Not hoping too much, not regretting—for what is more vain than regret?—
And, never the gladness forgetting, the pain and the sorrow forget.
Take, O Bianca, the beauty and joy of the world to thy heart!
For the power to enjoy is not only a blessing,—'t is also an art.
And be glad for the gifts that are granted, nor envy what cannot be thine;
For the life, that with Fate is in balance, is peaceful, and, so far, divine.
For the power to enjoy is not only a blessing,—'t is also an art.
239
For the life, that with Fate is in balance, is peaceful, and, so far, divine.
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |