What is our life?
View ArtistLyrics
What is our life? a play of passion: Our mirth? the music of division Our mothers' wombs the tyring-houses be Where we are drest for this short comedy: Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is That sits and marks whoe'er doth act amiss: Our graves, that hide us from the searching sun Are like drawn curtains when the play is done: Thus march we playing to our latest rest Only we die in earnest, — that's no jest
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Credits
- Writers
- Orlando Gibbons
- Walter Raleigh