Though I am all for warmth and light, For my full share of Earth's delight, How often must I stand perplexed! Knowing that Death has little care Who answers to his call, or where – When his cold voice comes crying, 'Next!' If Joy should falter any day, Have no unkindly thoughts, and say – 'How hard and strained is this man's note!' But rather think Death sometimes comes For early practise here, and hums His hard, dry rattle in my throat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOD AND MY COUNTRY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A MAN'S REQUIREMENTS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING WINTER'S EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL TO MADAME DE SEVIGNE by MATHIEU DE MONTREUIL THE VANITY OF THE WORLD by FRANCIS QUARLES IN THE GOLD ROOM by OSCAR WILDE THE MORAL FABLES: THE FOX AND THE WOLF by AESOP |