Before we too into the Dust descend;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,

Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!"

"Into the Dust we shall descend—we must.

But can the soul not break the crumbling Crust

In which he is encaged? To hope or to

Despair he will—which is more wise or just?"

[Pg 5]

"The worldly hope men set their hearts upon

Turns Ashes—or it prospers: and anon,

Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,

Lighting a little hour or two—is gone."

"Like Snow it comes—to cool one burning Day;

And like it goes—for all our plea or sway.

But flooding tears nor Wine can ever purge

The Vision it has brought to us away."

"But to this world we come and Why not knowing,

Nor Whence, like water willy-nilly flowing;

And out of it, as Wind along the waste,

We know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing."

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