Ere Life Is Flown

 

Isn’t it strange
That princes and kings
And clowns that caper
In sawdust rings,
And common people
Like you and me
Are builders for eternity?

Each is given a bag of tools,
A shapeless mass,
A book of rules;
And each must make–
Ere life is flown—
A stumbling block
Or a steppingstone.
—R. L. Sharpe