When I Shall Be Divorced, Some Ten Years Hence, From This Poor Present Self Which I Am Now; When Youth Has Done Its Tedious Vain Expense Of Passions That For Ever Ebb And Flow; Shall I Not Joy Youth'S Heats Are Left Behind, And Breathe More Happy In An Even Clime? Ah No! For Then I Shall Begin To Find A Thousand Virtues In This Hated Time. Then I Shall Wish Its Agitations Back, And All Its Thwarting Currents Of Desire; Then I Shall Praise The Heat Which Then I Lack, And Call This Hurrying Fever, Generous Fire, And Sigh That One Thing Only Has Been Lent To Youth And Age In Common Discontent