Terrible is the price Of beginning anew, of birth; Fro Death has loaded dice. Men hurry and hide like mice; But they cannot evade the Earth, And Life, and Death's fancy price. A blossom once or twice, Love lights on Summer's hearth; But Winter loads the dice. In jangling shackles of ice, Ragged and bleeding, Mirth Pays the Piper's price. The dance is done in a trice: Death belts his bony girth; And struts, and rattles his dice. Let Virtue play or Vice, Beside his sombre firth Life is the lowest price Death wins with loaded dice. |