Blackberries | ||
[Other men, we think]
Other men, we think,Of life's dear pleasures drink,
Unmix'd with drops of care;
While chiefly sours
Are ours,
And thoughts disconsolate.
But even as they seem
To us, of us they deem;
Their happy times are rare,
And tangled still
With ill;
For such is human fate.
Blackberries | ||