Death and birth should dwell not near together: Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth: Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether Death and birth. Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether Death be best, who knows, or life on earth? Ill the rose-red and the sable feather Blend in one's crown plume, as grief with mirth: Ill met still are warm and wintry weather, Death and birth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUMMER EVENING'S MEDITATION by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE POET AND HIS BOOK by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY RIDDLE: A BLACKSMITH by MOTHER GOOSE THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT; GEORGE III AND A DYING WOMAN IN WINDSOR FOREST by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE SINGERS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |