Sunday, 28 October 2012

Sunday Stroll


I learnt this poem by heart a long time ago, and today it came back to me. It is by John Dryden, a former Poet Laureate, who used to live in the heart of what is now known as the Chinatown in London.

Happy the man, and he alone,
He who can call today his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today.

Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine,
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

 

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