LIFE AND DEATH Life! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met
I own to me a secret yet.
Life! We've been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear;
Perhaps will cost a sigh, a tear;
Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time;
Say not 'Good Night'--but in some brighter clime,
Bid me 'Good Morning!'
Anna Barbauld.
LIFE AND DEATH
Many a man would die for wife and children, for faith, for country. But would he live for them? That, often, is the more heroic course--and the more sensible. A rich man was hiring a driver for his carriage. He asked each applicant how close he could drive to a precipice without toppling over. 'One foot,' 'Six inches,' 'Three inches,' ran the replies. But an Irishman declared, 'Faith, and I'd keep as far away from the place as I could.' 'Consider yourself employed,' was the rich man's comment.
So he died for his faith. That is fine--
More than most of us do.
But stay, can you add to that line
That he lived for it, too?
In death he bore witness at last
As a martyr to truth.
Did his life do the same in the past
From the days of his youth?
It is easy to die. Men have died
For a wish or a whim--
From bravado or passion or pride.
Was it harder for him?
But to live: every day to live out
All the truth that he dreamt,
While his friends met his conduct with doubt,
And the world with contempt--
Was it thus that he plodded ahead,
Never turning aside?
Then we'll talk of the life that he led--
Never mind how he died.
Ernest H. Crosby
From 'Swords and Ploughshares.'
