SOME clerks aver that as the tree doth fall Even forever so that tree shall lie, And that Death's act doth make perpetual The last state of the souls of men that die. If this be so, -- if this, indeed, were sure, Then not a moment longer would I live; Who, being now as I would fain endure, If man's last state doth his last hour survive, Should be among the blessed souls? I fear Life's many changes, not Death's changelessness. So perfect is this moment's passing cheer, I needs must tremble lest it pass to less. Thus but in fickle love of life I live, Lest fickle life me of my love deprive. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AMERICAN FLAG by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE JAZZONIA by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES SONNET: 130 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PRINCE ARTHUR: THE CRYSTAL PALACES by RICHARD BLACKMORE HOME, SWEET HOME WITH VARIATIONS: 3. FRANCIS BRET HARTE by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER |