You, too listless to examine If in pestilence or famine Death lurk least, a hungry gamin Gnawing on you like a beaver On a root, while you trifle Time away nodding in the sun, Careless how the shadows crawl Surely up your crumbling wall, Heedless of the Thief's footfall, Death's whose nimble fingers rifle Your heart beats one by weary one -- Here's the difference in our dying: You go dawdling, I go flying. Here's a thought flung out to plague you: Mine the pleasure if I'd liefer Burn completely with the fever Than go ambling with the ague. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN CORPSE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET BUT NOT TO ME by SARA TEASDALE DEDICATIONS AND INSCRIPTIONS: 6. GRUACH by GORDON BOTTOMLEY LONDON VOLUNTARIES: 3. SCHERZANDO by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY |