What Is Our Life
by Sir Walter Raleigh (1552–1618)
What is our life? The play of passion.
Our mirth? The music of division:
Our mothers’ wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for life’s short comedy.
The earth the stage; Heaven the spectator is,
Who sits and views whosoe’er doth act amiss.
The graves which hide us from the scorching sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus playing post we to our latest rest,
And then we die in earnest, not in jest.
For Sue, on her final journey to rest. 🌸
Thoughts by Mello-Elo 
Beautiful sentiments for a beautiful angel.🦋🦋🦋
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I feel quite devastated by Sue’s passing, Eloise. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.
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Me too, Robbie. She will be greatly missed. 🌸
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So sad about Sue, a life cut short, beautiful heartfelt poem Eloise. ❤
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There didn’t seem to be a more fitting poem for such a wonderful blogger and writer. It suddenly makes us all question our fallibility. I will miss her. 🌸
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Yes. She was blogging and writing up to the last. A special soul.
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A lovely poetic memorial to help Sue wing her way to the heavens. ❤
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Indeed. I can picture her penning her journey and commenting on the delights along the way. She will be missed. 🌸
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That she will, Eloise. Huge hugs to you, my friend. ❤
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💗💗
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What a beautiful memorial poem, Eloise❣️ It’s so fitting since Sue was such an amazing poet. My heart is broken, she will be missed.💔
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She was a fantastic writer and will be missed. 🌸
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How lovely, Eloise.
It breaks my heart yet it fills me to overflowing with love.
We will all miss Sue. ❤
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