Vanity of Vanities
Sonnet
Ah, woe is me for pleasure that is vain,Ah, woe is me for glory that is past:Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last,Glory that at the last bringeth no gain!So saith the sinking heart; and so againIt shall say till the mighty angel-blastIs blown, making the sun and moon aghastAnd showering down the stars like sudden rain.And evermore men shall go fearfullyBending beneath their weight of heaviness;And ancient men shall lie down wearily,And strong men shall rise up in weariness;Yea, even the young shall answer sighinglySaying one to another: How vain it is!