Life is a lovely girl Who dances on silver feet; Leaves in a windy swirl. Flowers perfumed sweet. Life is a man in his prime, Life is the wolf on the hill, Her song as the moon does climb The deer that is her kill. Time is a sword which divides All that we have and are From all that we were, and hides What we shall see afar. Time is a silver stag That we are constrained to chase. Time is a greydead hag Who once had a lovely face. Death is a table spread For no man's appetite; Unlit candles that shed Darkness instead of light. Death is a dark-eyed queen Who holds all men in sway. Death is a hunter keen Who never loses his prey. Life and Death and Time: These are the three we meet No matter how high we climb, No matter how strong our seat. These are the bounds we are set When first we take a breath, And further we cannot get Than Life and Time and Death. Life is the gift we'd choose, If ever we had a choice; Time is the thing we use, Thinking we have a voice; Death is the fate we'd shun, That comes to every man: These three that are really one, Start and finish and span. Life is a silver sword, Time is the hilt we hold In fealty to that lord Who cannot be foresold. Death is the edge of the blade (Though sometimes the point will do) Whose stroke cannot be stayed, Or aim put out of true.