When I no longer in my flesh do dwell
When every other hunger gnaws no more
Then I shall ask whatever Time will tell,
And know at last what the charade was for.
Yet not to overreach, if there’s a why
To love, red roses, chocolate, or the moon,
Beyond themselves, I’ll gladly pass it by:
I’ll not run out of other questions soon.
I want to know why life should so disguise
Its purposes, and fear a friendly touch;
And why we grow just old, and never wise,
And why this meat and bone should mean so much.
All this there will at last be time to learn,
When I am done with death, and homeward turn.