Our life is but a dark and stormy night,
To which sense yields a weak and glimmering light,
While wandering Man thinks he discerneth all
By that which makes him but mistake and fall.
"To his Mistress for her True Picture", line 49
Our life is but a dark and stormy night,
To which sense yields a weak and glimmering light,
While wandering Man thinks he discerneth all
By that which makes him but mistake and fall.
"To his Mistress for her True Picture", line 49
