by Friedrich Ruckert
I went to knock at Riches' door;
They threw me a farthing the threshold o'er.
To the door of Love did I then repair--
But fifteen others already were there.
To Honor's castle I took my flight--
They opened to none but to belted knight.
The house of Labor I sought to win--
But I heard a wailing sound within.
To the house of Content I sought the way--
But none could tell me where it lay.
One quiet house I yet could name,
Where last of all, I'll admittance claim;
Many the guests that have knocked before,
But still--in the grave--there's room for more.
Last updated January 14, 2019