As life what is so sweet? What creature would not choose thee? The wounded hart doth weep When he is forced to lose thee, The bruised worm doth strive 'gainst fear of death, And all choose life with pain ere loss of breath. The dove which knows no guilt Weeps for her mate a-dying; And never any blood was spilt But left the loser crying. If swans do sing, it is to crave of Death He would not reave them of their happy breath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN DESPAIR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MOTHER EARTH by GEORGE SANTAYANA |