LIFE's not our own, -- 't is but a loan To be repaid; Soon the dark Comer's at the door, The debt is due: the dream is o'er, -- Life's but a shade. Thus all decline that bloom or shine, Both star and flower; 'T is but a little odor shed, A light gone out, a spirit fled, A funeral hour. Then let us show a tranquil brow Whate'er befalls; That we upon life's latest brink May look on Death's dark face, -- and think An angel calls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR OF DISTRESS BEING HUMILIATED BY THE CLASSICAL CHINESE POETS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WIND (2) by EMILY DICKINSON ARIEL'S SONG (2), FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE EPIPSYCHIDION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY WITH COLORS GAY by HOWARD S. ABBOTT |