Ah, what can stay the flying years? Can goodness or can grace? Time's furrow all too soon appears To mar each mortal face. There's not a wight of noble birth, There's not a simple soul, However stationed upon earth, But owes the Boatman toll. Why worry over war's alarm? Why crouch when tempests rage? The coat that keeps a body warm Is not a hermitage. Farewell to weans; farewell to wife; Farewell to groves and glades: Only the cypress, loathed in life, Shall squire you to the shades. And farewell cellar's goodly hoard— A boon to legatee: "Put the best bottle on the board; I'll drink a health," says he. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPELLED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OUR GOOD PRESIDENT by PHOEBE CARY THE DESERTED PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE TWO WIVES by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS EPICOENE; OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: FREEDOM IN DRESS by BEN JONSON THE ENKINDLED SPRING by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE LAYS OF FRANCE: SONG (2) by MARIE DE FRANCE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 50. WILLOWWOOD (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |