An aged Man, employed in cutting wood
And carrying faggots for a livelihood
To Corinth's market, being out of breath
And worn, sat down and called aloud on Death.
Death hastened at his summons down the road:
" Why callest me? " " That, lifting up my load,
Thou may'st replace it on my shoulders. "

MORAL

I've
The same propensity to stay alive.