Poem by William Ernest Henley

* * *

We shall surely die:
Must we needs grow old?
Grow old and cold,
And we know not why?

O, the By-and-By,
And the tale that’s told!
We shall surely die:
Must we needs grow old?

Grow old and sigh,
Grudge and withhold,
Resent and scold?…
Not you and I?
We shall surely die! 

1. London Types: Bus Driver
2. A Wink from Hesper
3. The Ways of Death Are Soothing and Serene
4. In Rotten Row
5. There's a Regret

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