The moving finger writes, and having written moves on. Nor all thy pie >>
Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell >>
The thoughtful soul to solitude retires. >>
This life of separateness may be compared to a dream, a phantasm, a bu >>
This is what is sad when one contemplates human life, that so many liv >>
We come into this world head first and go out feet first; in between, >>
Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell nor yet surmise; Pass, therefore, not today in vain, For it will never come again.