I Would not Live Alway.

"I would not live alway," Why should I wish to stay, Now, when grown old and grey, Enduring slow decay? When power to do has fled, 'Twere better to be dead— The tree that's ceased to bear, Has no right to be there. Who cares to keep a bird Whose note is never heard? Yet many things abound, Encumbering the ground; Useless, unsightly wrecks, That only serve to vex The sight of those who boast All that those wrecks have lost. If God gave me this life,— Now, when worn out with strife, May I not give it back And move from out the track? This world is not for drones! The right to live each owns; But he to earn that right Must work with all his might. When power to do has fled, 'Twere better to be dead. The dog has had its day;— "I would not live alway."