Littell's Living Age/Volume 131/Issue 1688/From the Italian


The past is not, — the hues in which 'tis drest
Fond memory supplies;
The future is not, — hope-born in the breast
Its fancied joys arise;
The present is not, — like the lightning's gleam
Its brief illusions seem;
This is the life allotted unto man,
A memory, — a hope, — a fleeting moment's span.

Spectator. C.