Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas
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- In all we do, and hear, and see,
- Is restless Toil and Vanity.
- While yet the rolling earth abides,
- Men come and go like ocean tides;
- And ere one generation dies,
- Another in its place shall rise;
- THAT, sinking soon into the grave,
- Others succeed, like wave on wave;
- And as they rise, they pass away.
- The sun arises every day,
- And hastening onward to the West,
- He nightly sinks, but not to rest:
- Returning to the eastern skies,
- Again to light us, he must rise.
- And still the restless wind comes forth,
- Now blowing keenly from the North;
- Now from the South, the East, the West,
- For ever changing, ne'er at rest.
- The fountains, gushing from the hills,
- Supply the ever-running rills;
- The thirsty rivers drink their store,
- And bear it rolling to the shore,
- But still the ocean craves for more.
- 'Tis endless labour everywhere!
- Sound cannot satisfy the ear,
- Light cannot fill the craving eye,
- Nor riches half our wants supply,
- Pleasure but doubles future pain,
- And joy brings sorrow in her train;
- Laughter is mad, and reckless mirth--
- What does she in this weary earth?
- Should Wealth, or Fame, our Life employ,
- Death comes, our labour to destroy;
- To snatch the untasted cup away,
- For which we toiled so many a day.
- What, then, remains for wretched man?
- To use life's comforts while he can,
- Enjoy the blessings Heaven bestows,
- Assist his friends, forgive his foes;
- Trust God, and keep His statutes still,
- Upright and firm, through good and ill;
- Thankful for all that God has given,
- Fixing his firmest hopes on Heaven;
- Knowing that earthly joys decay,
- But hoping through the darkest day.
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