Last month, in a post on an EconTalk with Bob Chitester, I seconded Bob’s view of the importance of poetry.
One of my favorites, which I never see anyone else quote, is one I learned in high school. My high school English teacher, believe it or not, was Miss English.
It’s titled “On the Shortness of Time” and is by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt. My favorite lines are the last two. Here it is:
If I could live without the thought of death,
Forgetful of time’s waste, the soul’s decay,
I would not ask for other joy than breath,
With light and sound of birds and the sun’s ray.
I could sit on untroubled day by day
Watching the grass grow, and the wild flowers range
From blue to yellow and from red to grey
In natural sequence as the seasons change.
I could afford to wait, but for the hurt
Of this dull tick of time which chides my ear.
But now I dare not sit with loins ungirt
And staff unlifted, for death stands too near.
I must be up and doing — ay, each minute.
The grave gives time for rest when we are in it.
READER COMMENTS
AMW
Oct 6 2020 at 10:53pm
Here’s a poem with a similar sentiment. (It also includes some marginal analysis.)
The Clock Man
by Shel Silverstein
How much will you pay for an extra day?”
The clock man asked the child.
“Not one penny,” the answer came,
“For my days are as many as smiles.”
“How much will you pay for an extra day?”
He asked when the child was grown.
“Maybe a dollar or maybe less,
For I’ve plenty of days of my own.”
“How much will you pay for an extra day?”
He asked when the time came to die.
“All of the pearls in all of the seas,
And all of the stars in the sky.”
David Henderson
Oct 6 2020 at 10:59pm
Nice.
db
Oct 7 2020 at 1:21pm
I used to spend a lot of time playing computer games. Over the years I became less and less interested in them, and I started hobbies that involve interaction with the “real world.”
My view has become that the time to spend immersed in a computer simulation is in future years, when my body is weak, but my mind still craves adventure.
RPLong
Oct 7 2020 at 4:24pm
Wow, that’s a nice thought! I played video games as a young boy, but not much after high school. I still enjoy them, but I find myself more engaged by other things. But I believe you’re right – there will probably come a day when my body won’t be able to keep up with my appetite for fun, and video games seem like a great thing to look forward to when I might not otherwise be looking forward to that part of growing old.
Thanks for that. 🙂
Alan Goldhammer
Oct 7 2020 at 5:18pm
I have always enjoyed the way Marvell deals with time in the first stanza of ‘To his Coy Mistress.’
David Henderson
Oct 7 2020 at 5:22pm
Interesting. When I posted this on FB, a long-time friend immediately posted a link to that poem. I had forgotten it, but I think we covered it in high school too. Pretty steamy for a high school class in my part of Canada. 🙂
Alan Goldhammer
Oct 8 2020 at 8:04am
While not poetic, one of the classics on time is Proust’s “In Search of Lost Time.” I never made it past the 2/3 mark which in itself is an achievement. One of these day’s I will complete it.
Mark Z
Oct 8 2020 at 1:07am
The last few lines remind me of Tennyson’s Ulysses, my favorite poem, especially some lines from the last stanza:
That always struck me as the right way to think about mortality.
Henri Hein
Oct 8 2020 at 2:49am
That’s a good one. It reminded me of some of the Piet Hein grooks. Here are a few in the same vein. Bear in mind these are translated from the Danish.
AMW
Oct 10 2020 at 5:38pm
He’s got another one, but it doesn’t rhyme when translated:
Rembember to love while you dare it,
Remember to live while you’re doing it.
(Husk at elske mens du tor det/Husk at leve mens du gor det.)
Rodney McFadden
Oct 9 2020 at 2:19pm
From AE Houseman’s “Reville”, here is the final stanza:
Clay lies still, but blood’s a rover;
Breath’s a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey’s over
There’ll be time enough to sleep.
Charles Lindsey
Oct 9 2020 at 7:09pm
… that dying is what the living do,
that dying is what the loving do,
and that dead dogs are those who do not know
that dying is what, to live, each has to do.
(“Curiosity,” Alastair Reid)
Cameron Stevens
Oct 15 2020 at 12:17am
Poetry is beautiful in the purest of senses. It allows people of all backgrounds and status to express feelings in a way unlike any other. Nothing can be compared to the pure power of poetry, and nothing will ever amount to the depth of feeling that it brings. Here in this poem, in an odd sense, it is found that through the knowledge of death and its holdings on man that death can change the exact reaction that is allowed to man and what we do with our time here alive above the ground. In my opinion, this exact fear or, in another perspective, motivation is what has driven man to change this world towards our likings and standard of living.
Economic growth, the greatening of man, the expansion of our abilities would not exist without the fear of death withering inside of our souls. Perhaps it is not even the fear of death but the existence of it that drives some people to strive for things that without it would never come into fruition. Why would there be a need to change or grow without the existence and fear of an end? In simple terms, there would not be. Without death pulling us towards the grave, growth in all forms would be nonexistent or vastly hindered since there would be an eternal and universal drive to do so.
Innovation is key to creating a better life for all. It has brought us to where we are today, and without the fear of death in the back of everyone’s minds, such innovation would be utterly nonexistence or, at the very least, vastly altered to a point to which we would not understand in our death ridden world. Ironically, death brings to life all that we know today in all areas of society. There would be no need to create, tax, build, fix, change, nor care without the fear of an end existent in all forms of life. Death is the only constant in life that everyone will experience without any doubts, and it is the key concept that has driven humankind to where we are today. Death will forever continue to push us beyond our limits like we have seen done countless times before.
Comments are closed.