The River of Life
The more we live, more brief appear
Our life's succeeding stages;
A day to childhood seems a year,
And years like passing ages.
The gladsome current of our youth,
Ere passion yet disorders,
Steals lingering like a river smooth
Along its grassy borders.
But as the careworn cheek grows wan,
And sorrow's shafts fly thicker,
Ye stars, that measure life to man,
Why seem your courses quicker?
When joys have lost their bloom and breath,
And life itself is vapid,
Why, as we reach the Falls of Death
Feel we its tide more rapid?
It may be strange—yet who would change
Time's course to slower speeding,
When one by one our friends have gone,
And left our bosoms bleeding?
Heaven gives our years of fading strength
And those of youth, a seeming length,
Proportion'd to their sweetness.
Thomas Campbell's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The River of Life by Thomas Campbell )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(15 April 1931)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(3 March 1878 - 9 April 1917)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- After a Death , Tomas Tranströmer
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Caged Bird, Maya Angelou