Come, Friend, You Too Must Die

"Come, friend, you too must die.
Why moan about it so?
There is always room in Hades,
There is always space below.
And when all the world is over,
Then where else is there to go?
For like every oak must feel the ax,
Each man will be brought low;
And like the trunk is stripped of bark,
Each man must take his blow.

And someday even I will feel
Apollo's shaft strike bone--
Come, friend, you too must die--
Why moan?"



*This poem is based on a line from the Iliad (Book 21, line 119). "Come, friend, you too must die. Why moan about it so?" quips Achilles as he impales an unlucky Trojan.