Had It Lived Long, Is Would Have

My Vegetable Love Should Grow Vaster Than Empires, And More Slow.

Among The Blind The One-eyed Blinkard Reigns

So Much One Man Can Do That Does Both Act And Know.

Art Indeed Is Long, But Life Is Short.

But At My Back I Always Hear Time's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near; And Yonder All Before Us Lie Deserts Of Vast Eternity. Thy Beauty Shall No More Be Found, Nor, In Thy Marble Vault, Shall Sound My Echoing Song; Then Worms Shall Try That Long Preserv'd Virginity, And Your Quaint Honour Turn To Dust, And Into Ashes All My Lust. The Grave's A Fine And Private Place, But None I Think Do There Embrace.