Since all is vanity -- O shrewdest preacher! -- Since death and dust are sure, for all our hoping, Why then should man, discriminating creature, Continue in his unproductive groping? What is the gain of all the painful scramble, The hours of patient building in the sun, When the sure sea, the hour alone a gamble, Will wash away our ramparts one by one? Why taste the joy embittered by the pain? Why starve the spirit pale, in serving duty? What use the chase of good repute or gain, And the mad hungry servitude to beauty? This life is worthless: then why wait to spend it? Surely the wiser part would be to end it! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO QUILCA; A COUNTRY HOUSE IN NO GOOD REPAIR by JONATHAN SWIFT THE WOOD THRUSH by SUSAN SHARP ADAMS BATTLE AT THE RIVER RAISIN; JANUARY 22, 1813 by LEVI BISHOP II PETER II 22 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON THE EPICUREAN, STOIC, AND CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY by JOHN BYROM IN ANSWER OF AN ELEGIACAL LETTER UPON THE DEATH OF THE KIND OF SWEDEN by THOMAS CAREW |