When Nature bids us leave to live, 'tis late Then to begin, my Roe: he makes a state In life, that can employ it; and takes hold On the true causes, ere they grow too old. Delay is bad, doubt worse, depending worst; Each best day of our life escapes us, first. Then, since we (more than many) these truths know; Though life be short, let us not make it so. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT KENNEBUNKPORT by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE RUNAWAY SLAVE AT PILGRIM'S POINT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING PROGRESSIVE HEALTH by CARL DENNIS ELEONORA; A PANEGYRICAL POEM by JOHN DRYDEN THE SECRET OF THE SEA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOHN PELHAM by JAMES RYDER RANDALL HOPE AND FEAR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |