Sir Walter Raleigh

(1552 - 1618 / Devon / England)

Life - Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh

What is our life? A play of passion,
Our mirth the music of division,
Our mother's wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for this short comedy.
Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is,
That sits and marks still who doth act amiss.
Our graves that hide us from the setting sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus march we, playing, to our latest rest,
Only we die in earnest, that's no jest.

Comments about Life by Sir Walter Raleigh

  • Rookie Adriano Andrade (11/24/2005 10:53:00 AM)

    This poem is simply great! ! !

    Adriano Andrade (Report) Reply

    7 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: passion, music, mother, heaven, sun, life, house

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

[Hata Bildir]