WITH mighty leaps and bounds, I followed Passion's hounds, My hot blood had its day; Lust, Gluttony, and Drink, I chased to Hell's black brink, Both night and day. I ate like three strong men, I drank enough for ten, Each hour must have its glass; Yes, Drink and Gluttony Have starved more brains, say I, Than Hunger has. And now, when I grow old, And my slow blood is cold, And feeble is my breath -- I'm followed by those hounds, Whose mighty leaps and bounds Hunt me to death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FALL; A GREAT FAVORIT BEHEADED by LUIS DE GONGORA THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODS by RUDYARD KIPLING MACGREGOR'S GATHERING by WALTER SCOTT THE LAY OF ST. CUTHBERT; OR THE DEVIL'S DINNER-PARTY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM BETWEEN TWO SEASONS by ELIZABETH BURNINGHAM A CHILD'S GRACE by ROBERT BURNS ON THE WAY OF THE CROSS by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |