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Politics : Stockman Scott's Political Debate Porch -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Solon who wrote (60723)	10/14/2004 10:00:50 PM
From: Solon	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 89467

EDIT. I first discovered this poem about 30 years ago on an LP with Lucretius and others. I remember that Grey's elegy was also there. I do not remember the name of the speaker. Second edit. It is perhaps the most HONEST writing I have ever seen. I have always loved this poem so much. So I drop it on this website because it pleases me to do so. Chidiock Tichborne's Elegy written with his own hand in the Tower before his execution My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, My crop of corn is but a field of tares, And all my good is but vain hope of gain. The day is past, and yet I saw no sun, And now I live, and now my life is done. My tale was heard and yet it was not told, My fruit is fallen and yet my leaves are green; My youth is spent and yet I am not old, I saw the world and yet I was not seen. My thread is cut and yet it is not spun, And now I live, and now my life is done. I sought my death and found it in my womb, I looked for life and saw it was a shade; I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but made. My glass is full, and now my glass is run, And now I live, and now my life is done.