
Your lead
Date: Saturday, 7th June 2014 @ 05:48:24 PM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: mick
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
If you can not stop for Death –
he kindly stopped for you –
The Carriage will hold but just yourselves –
and immortality.
We slowly drove – you knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For your civility.
This poem is Copyright © mick
|
|
Important note: ALL POETRY ON THIS SITE IS COPYRIGHT. If you wish to use any poem
for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from the sites feedback form, or go to the
AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission. If you Email Mick for permission on
any poem that is not his personal works, he will endeavor to contact the author on your
behalf.
This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com
https://www.your-poetry.com/
The URL for this poem is:
https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=178494
|