ON READING THE MEMOIRS OF M. D'ARTAGNAN <br />Why was I born in this degenerate age? <br />Or rather why, a thousand times, with soul <br />Of such degenerate stuff that a mute rage <br />Is all its reason, tears the only toll <br />It takes on life, and impotence its goal? <br />Why was I born to this sad heritage <br />Of fierce desires which cannot fate control, <br />Of idle hopes life never can assuage? <br />Why was I born thus weak?--Oh to have been <br />A merry fool, at jest with destiny; <br />A free hand ready and a heart as free; <br />A ruffler in the camps of Mazarin! <br />Oh for the honest soul of d'Artagnan, <br />Twice happy knave, a Gascon and a man!<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iii-gods-and-false-gods-lxx/
