Poetry Archives

I met a man the other day—
  A kindly man, and serious—
Who viewed me in a thoughtful way,
  And spoke me so, and spoke me thus:

“Oh, dallying’s a sad mistake;
  ’Tis craven to survey the morrow!
Go give your heart, and if it break—
  A wise companion is Sorrow.

“Oh, live, my child, nor keep your soul
  To crowd your coffin when you’re dead….”
I asked his work; he dealt in coal,
  And shipped it up the Tyne, he said.