The Two Highwaymen

I LONG have had a quarrel set with Time

Because he robb'd me. Every day of life

Was wrested from me after bitter strife:

I never yet could see the sun go down

But I was angry in my heart, nor hear

The leaves fall in the wind without a tear

Over the dying summer. I have known

No truce with Time nor Time's accomplice, Death.

  The fair world is the witness of a crime

Repeated every hour. For life and breath

Are sweet to all who live; and bitterly

The voices of these robbers of the heath

Sound in each ear and chill the passer-by.

—What have we done to thee, thou monstrous Time?

What have we done to Death that we must die?