Author Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov Know'st thou what gray Methuselah Pronounced when parting with this life? Man's born a slave, He dies a slave, And death will never tell him why He walked this lovely vale of tears, Suffered, wept, endured, and disappeared. Tags death life Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments