When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat; <br />Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; <br />Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: <br />To-morrow's falser than the former day; <br />Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blessed <br />With some new joys, cuts off what we possessed. <br />Strange cozenage! none would live past years again, <br />Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; <br />And, from the dregs of life, think to receive <br />What the first sprightly running could not give. <br />I'm tired with waiting for this chemic gold, <br />Which fools us young, and beggars us when old.<br /><br />John Dryden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-a-cheat/
