Man alive, that mournst thy lot, <br />Desiring what thou hast not got, <br />Money, beauty, love, what not; <br /> <br />Deeming it blesseder to be <br />A rotted man, than live to see <br />So rude a sky as covers thee; <br /> <br />Deeming thyself of all unblest <br />And wretched souls the wretchedest, <br />Longing to die and be at rest; <br /> <br />Know: that however grim the fate <br />Which sent thee forth to meditate <br />Upon my enviable state, <br /> <br />Here lieth one who would resign <br />Gladly his lot, to shoulder thine. <br />Give me thy coat; get into mine.<br /><br />Edna St Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-for-a-grave-stone-2/
