I. WHY so serious, why so grave? Man of business, why so muddy? Thyself from Chance thou canst not save With all thy care and study. Look merrily then, and take thy repose; For 'tis to no purpose to look so forlorn, Since the World was as bad before thou wert born, And when it will mend who knows? And a thousand year hence 'tis all one, If thou lay'st on a dunghill, or sat'st on a throne. II. To be troubled, to be sad, Carking mortal, 'tis a folly, For a pound of Pleasure's not so bad As an ounce of Melancholy: Since all our lives long we travel towards Death, Let us rest us sometimes, and bait by the way, 'Tis but dying at last; in our race let us stay, And we shan't be so soon out of breath. Sit the comedy out, and that done, When the play's at an end, let the curtain fall down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MESSIAH; A SACRED ECLOGUE IN IMITATION OF VIRGIL'S POLLIO by ALEXANDER POPE REJECTED ADDRESSES: THE BABY'S DEBUT, BY W. W. by JAMES SMITH (1775-1839) EROTION by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE STANZAS ON THE CONVERSION OF THE JEWS by BERNARD BARTON |