Explore "Death and the Unfortunate" by Jean de La Fontaine on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A poor unfortunate, from day to day, / Call'd Death to take him from this world away. / 'O Death' he said, 'to me how fair thy form! / Come quick, and end for me life's cruel storm. ' / Death heard, and with a ghastly grin, / Knock'd at his door, and enter'd in / 'Take out this object from my sight! ' / The poor man loudly cried. / 'Its dreadful looks I can't abide; / O stay him, stay him' let him come no nigher; / O Death! O Death! I pray thee to retire!'
A gentleman of note / In Rome, Maecenas,[1] somewhere wrote: -- / "Make me the poorest wretch that begs, / Sore, hungry, crippled, clothed in rags, / In hopeless impotence of arms and legs; / Provided, after all, you give / The one sweet liberty to live: / I'll ask of Death no greater favour / Than just to stay away for ever. "[2]
[1]: _Maecenas_. -- Seneca's Epistles, CI.
[2]: Aesop.