SONNET
II
.
WIsely
,
O
C*
;
enjoy
the
present
hour
,
The
present
hour
is
all
the
time
we
have
,
High
God
the
rest
has
plac'd
beyond
our
pow'r
,
Consign'd
,
perhaps
,
to
grief
—
or
to
the
grave
.
Wretched
the
man
,
who
toils
ambition's
slave
;
Who
pines
for
wealth
,
or
sighs
for
empty
fame
;
Who
rolls
in
pleasures
which
the
mind
deprave
,
Bought
with
severe
remorse
,
and
guilty
shame
.
Virtue
and
knowledge
be
our
better
aim
;
These
help
us
Ill
to
bear
,
or
teach
to
shun
;
Let
friendship
cheer
us
with
her
gen'rous
flame
,
Friendship
,
the
sum
of
all
our
joys
in
one
;
So
shall
we
live
each
moment
fate
has
giv'n
;
How
long
,
or
short
,
let
us
resign
to
heav'n
.