ÆGEON: Of no distemper, of no blast he died,
But fell like autumn-fruit that mellowed long;
Even wondered at, because he dropt no sooner.
Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years;
Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more:
Till, like a clock worn out with eating time,
The wheels of weary life at last stood still.

John Dryden (1631–1700) English poet, dramatist, critic

Œdipus, Act 4, sc. 1 (1679)
    (Source)

Of King Polybus' death.