Indeed no greater vanity than this,
That man should be but for few days—
Despite his conquests of daily increase
In the pride of his breathtaking pace!
To have it all but mere shadows,
Are all there is the gain for his toils:
For in no way different from sparrows
Would his flesh rotten into rich soils!
O, what then is the folly of a man worth
That he should be a fool all through?
Why would he not to the truth come forth
And surrender to that which is true?
Emptiness is all there is without GOD;
Against such, no man can forge a sword.



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