Classic Poem

A cloudlet rose from earth's swampy wells,
Hovering like a living thing;
But the air crept into its pory cells,
Severing it into particles,
Plucking its downy wing;
Till it faded from the gazer's sight,
Ne'er to unite

Man is a vapour, by life's ray
Drawn into light. But through his frame
Creeps Death with chemical decay;
His filmy substance shrinks away—
Going to whence it came—
Through earth and air, the wide world o'er,
To meet no more.

Is this the finish of our days?
Is there no life in our lost breath?
Has Mind, when set on earth, no rays,
Elsewhere? A voice within us says,
“Thy answerer is Death.”
If Death can tell us this,—O why
Would we not die!