Sweden's Laureate: Selected Poems of Verner von Heidenstam/"Grant That We Die Young"
"GRANT THAT WE DIE YOUNG."
Give the full happiness our tongueWould quaff, but only sips in stinted measure;Pour us a brimming draught of pain, of pleasure, And grant that we die young!
Man doth not ever find amid the grassesA plant that wind and frost more quickly slay,Nor doth he form a vessel out of clayMore brittle than himself—so soon he passes.What though he build the structure stone by stoneOf all his knowledge, thought, and will, and yearning?Ere on his grave the grass to green is turningHis crumbling temple unto dust is blown;Like a dry branch the spire is overthrown.
'Tis day as yet, and joyful songs are sungBy temple maidens dancing on the mead.When it is dark, then let us homeward speed;— Oh, grant that we die young!