 | Miscellany Poems |  |
No to Morrow.
An Holy Hermite, that to aged Years
His precious Moments had employ'd in Prayers;
Renew'd the Golden age, by Nature fed,
Took his Repose upon Earth's flowry Bed,
And had Heaven's Canopy above his Head:
With what was present did content his Mind,
And future things to Providence resign'd.
His precious Moments had employ'd in Prayers;
Renew'd the Golden age, by Nature fed,
Took his Repose upon Earth's flowry Bed,
And had Heaven's Canopy above his Head:
With what was present did content his Mind,
And future things to Providence resign'd.
To Him some Friends did earnestly repair,
And begg'd at th' Consul's Choosing hee'd appear.
To whom Gray Hairs and Piety reply'd,
“What's in my power You shall not be deny'd.
“What You desire of me to Day I'le doe,
“But for to Morrow I can nothing show.
“You that are Young and hope for Future years,
“For times to come may fill your Heads with Cares.
“I use the Time is present; and no more,
“Than what to Day brings forth, account my store.
“I many Years have liv'd, yet never knew
“What was to Future Times and to to Morrow due.
And begg'd at th' Consul's Choosing hee'd appear.
To whom Gray Hairs and Piety reply'd,
“What's in my power You shall not be deny'd.
“What You desire of me to Day I'le doe,
“But for to Morrow I can nothing show.
“You that are Young and hope for Future years,
“For times to come may fill your Heads with Cares.
“I use the Time is present; and no more,
“Than what to Day brings forth, account my store.
“I many Years have liv'd, yet never knew
“What was to Future Times and to to Morrow due.
| Miscellany Poems | |