<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On The Death Of Sir Tho: Peltham</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Meerly for man's death to mourne<br>Were to repine that man was borne.<br>When weake old age doth fall asleepe<br>Twere foule ingratitude to weepe:<br>Those threads alone should pull out tears<br>Whose sodayne cracke breaks off some years.<br>Heere tis not so: full distance heere<br>Sunders the cradle from the beere.<br>A fellow-traveller he hath beene<br>So long with Time: so worne to skinne,<br>That were hee not just now bereft,<br>His Body first his soule had left,<br>Threescore and tenne is Nature's date,<br>Our journey when wee come in late.<br>Beyond that time the overplus<br>Was granted not to him, but us.<br>For his own sake the Sun nere stood,<br>But only for the peoples good.<br>Even so his breath held out by aire<br>Which poore men uttered in theyr prayer:<br>And as his goods were lent to give,<br>So were his dayes that they might live,<br>Soe ten years more to him were told<br>Enough to make another olde.<br>O that Death would still doe soe;<br>Or else on good men would bestow<br>That wast of years which unthrifts fling<br>Away by theyr distempering,<br>That some might thrive by this decay<br>As well as that of land and clay.<br>'Twas now well done: no cause to moane<br>On such a seasonable stone.<br>Where death is but an Host, we sinne<br>Not bidding welcome to his Inne.<br> Sleepe, sleepe, thy rest, good man, embrace;<br> Sleepe, sleepe, th' ast trode a weary race.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Strode">William Strode</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539475" data-title="On The Death Of Sir Tho: Peltham de William Strode" data-description="Meerly for man's death to mourne Were to repine that man was borne. When weake old age doth fall asleepe Twere foule ingratitude to weepe: Those threads alone should pull out tears Whose sodayne cracke breaks off some years. Heere tis not so: full..."></div> </div> </div>

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