WHAT is th' existence of Man's life But open war, or slumber'd strife? Where sickness to his sense presents The combat of the elements: And never feels a perfect peace, Till Death's cold hand signs his release. It is a storm, where the hot blood Outvies in rage the boiling flood; And each loud passion of the mind Is like a furious gust of wind, Which beats his bark with many a wave, Till be casts anchor in the grave. It is a flower, which buds and grows, And withers as the leaves disclose; Whose spring and fall faint seasons keep, Like fits of waking before sleep: Then shrinks into that fatal mould, Where its first being was enroll'd. It is a dream, whose seeming truth Is moraliz'd in age and youth: Where all the comforts he can share As wand'ring as his fancies are; Till in a mist of dark decay The dreamer vanish quite away. It is a dial, which points out The sun-set as it moves about: And shadows out in lines of night The subtile stages of Time's flight, Till all obscuring earth hath laid The body in perpetual shade. It is a weary interlude Which doth short joys, long woes include. The World the stage, the Prologue tears, The Acts vain hope, and varied fears; The Scene shuts up with loss of breath, And leaves no Epilogue but Death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING by JOHN DONNE TELLING THE BEES by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ELEGY FOR A DEAD KING by AL-KUTANDI AN ANCIENT PATH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE QUICK AND THE DEAD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 38. TO ONE NOW ESTRANGED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WORLD'S DESIRE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 19. ELEGIAC VERSE: THE SECOND EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |