These shriveled sinews and this bending frame,
The workmanship of Time's strong hand proclaim;
Skilled to reverse what e'er the gods create,
And make that crooked which they fashion straight.
Hard choice for man, to die -- or else to be
That tottering, wretched, wrinkled thing you see:
Age then we all prefer; for age we pray,
And travel on to life's last, lingering day;
Then sinking slowly down from worse to worse,
Find heaven's extorted boon our greatest curse.
by: Crates 470 BC