by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Life is a Poet's fable
Language: English
Life is a Poet's fable, And all her days are lies Stolen from death's reckoning table, For I die as I speak, Death times the notes that I do break. Childhood doth die in youth, And youth in old age dies, I thought I liv'd in truth: But I die, now I see, Each age of death makes one degree. Farewell the doting score, Of worlds arithmetic, Life, I'll trust thee no more, Till I die, for thy sake, I'll go by death's new almanac. This instant of my song, A thousand men lie sick, A thousand knells are rung: And I die as they sing, They are but dead and I dying. Death is but lifes decay, Life time, time wastes away, Then reason bids me say: That I die, though my breath Prolongs this space of ling'ring death.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Robert Jones (fl. 1597-1615), "Life is a Poet's fable", published 1601, from the collection First Book of Airs, no. 15. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2014-02-23
Line count: 25
Word count: 140