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. Echoes. 12. To Me at My Fifth-Floor Window
2. In Hospital. 22. Pastoral
3. In Hospital. 12. Etching
4. Echoes. 44. If It Should Come to Be
5. Echoes. 21. We Flash across the Level

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