What is our life? The play of passion.
Our mirth? The music of division:
Our mothers' wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for life's short comedy.
The earth the stage; Heaven the spectator is,
Who sits and views whosoe'er doth act amiss.
The graves which hide us from the scorching sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus playing post we to our latest rest,
And then we die in earnest, not in jest.
What Is Our Life
Sir Walter Raleigh
(2)
Poem topics: heaven, music, passion, sun, earth, hide, short, stage, life, play, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about What Is Our Life poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
Best Poems of Sir Walter Raleigh