GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.7.59-3.7.78 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.7.59-3.7.78

What boots good fortune, if we want the pow'rTo snatch the pleasures of the favour'd hour?I, like a miser, only could behold,And brooded o'er an useless mine of gold;So Tantalus with fruit untouch'd is curst,And dies amid the gliding stream of thirst;So rises early from th' untasted fair,The grave old prelate, and kneels down to pray'r,Were yet her melting kisses misenploy'd?Did she strive vainly to be well enjoy'd ?Sure she has beauties might deaf rocks enchant,Bend the proud oak, and soften adamant;She would have mov'd a man tho' almost dead,But with my manhood the whole life was fled.If none should lend an ear, why is the song,Or painted nymphs shown to a blinded throng !Ye gods ! what joys did not my fancy raise !I curl'd in folds of love a thousand ways.Strong were my thoughts, but ah ! my body layLanguid as roses pluck'd off yesterday.