Three of a Kind

Orpheus could make a tree
Wiggle to a wicked tune,
But lost his love, Eurydice:
He peeked too soon.
Alexander’s rocket shed
Brightness like the sun at noon;
At thirty-two, though, he was dead:
He peaked too soon.
Hotspur had a temper that
Flared up like a puffed balloon;
Hot water was his habitat:
He piqued too soon.