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...A LITTLE DUTCH GARDEN by HARRIET WHITNEY DURBIN HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY: 2 by REGINALD HEBER A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 54 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SEVEN TIMES THREE [ - LOVE] by JEAN INGELOW SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITOR WHEDON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO THE ROSE UPON THE ROOD OF TIME by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO ANACREON by ANTIPATER OF SIDON |