Mortality


At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,

Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;

At fifty, chides his infamous delay,

Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,

In all the magnanimity of thought;

Resolves, and re-resolves, then dies the same.

And why? because he thinks himself immortal,

All men think all men mortal but themselves.


Author: Edward Young

Source: Night Thoughts (night I, l. 417)
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