Three score and ten, the life and age of man,
In holy David's eyes steemed but a span;
And half the time is lost and spent in sleep,
So only thirty-five for use we keep.
Our days of youth wise Solomon doth call
But vanity, 'Vanity,' he says,
'Is what befalls us in our childish days.'
Our days of age we take no pleasure in;
Our days of grief we wish had never been:
So age deducted, sleep, and youth, and sorrow,
Only one span is all the life we borrow.