Carmen XI.

Lucy, fond votaress of clairvoyance,
Thou shalt not know, in crystal though thou gaze,
What end the gods ordain of all my days
And thine, sweet witch; not all thy necromance
Can tell our destinies; whate'er bechance
'Twere best to bear; whether th' Almighty weights
Thee out more years, or this thy last, naught stays
The wave-like motion of the years' advance.
Wisdom accepts, be wise; thy longing hope
Trim to the straiter limits of thy sphere
Of homely duty, for what must be, must;
E'en now, while thou wouldst read my horoscope,
The jealous hour is sped; to-day is here,
Seize it and to the morrow little trust.

Arthur Chorlton.