My Love Is Of A Birth As

But At My Back I Always Hear Time's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near.

Let Us Roll All Our Strength, And All Our Sweetness, Up Into One Ball: And Tear Our Pleasures With Rough Strife, Through The Iron Gates Of Life. Thus, Though We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run.

Self-preservation, Nature's First Great Law, All The Creatures, Except Man, Doth Awe.

Thus, Though We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run

Now Let Us Sport Us While We May; And Now, Like Amorous Birds Of Prey, Rather At Once Our Time Devour, Than Languish In His Slow-chapped Power.