Vanity of Vanities
by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

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 again
   It shall say till the mighty angel-blast
   Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast,
And showering down the stars like sudden rain.
And evermore men shall go fearfully
   Bending 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 sighingly,
Saying one to another: How vain it is!

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