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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536632" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVIII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">COLD COMFORT<br>There is no comfort underneath the sun.<br>Youth turns to age; riches are quickly spent;<br>Pride breeds us pain, our pleasures punishment.<br>The very courage which we count upon<br>A single night of fever shall break down,<br>And love is slain by fear. Death last of all<br>Spreads out his nets and watches for our fall.<br>There is no comfort underneath the sun!<br>--When thou art old, O man, if thou wert proud<br>Be humble; pride will here avail thee not.<br>There is no courage which can conquer death.<br>Forget that thou wert wise. Nay, keep thy breath<br>For prayer, that so thy wisdom be forgot<br>And thou perhaps get pity of thy God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536632" data-title="The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVIII de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="COLD COMFORT
There is no comfort underneath the sun.
Youth turns to age; riches are quickly spent;
Pride breeds us pain, our pleasures punishment.
The very courage which we count upon
A single night of fever shall break down,
And love is slain by ..."></div>
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