And in its little heart an arrow sought
Unsanctified admittance, quivering there,
Like an unwelcome messenger of fate.
The spoiler came—I drew his arrow out,
And threw it on the earth—he trod it down,
As he passed onward in his careless path.
And this is death! How sudden, and how strong!
His harvest ne'er begins nor ends, for still
His scythe is ready ere the corn is ripe,
We cannot shun the stroke; but if prepared