For what is life? This life? My life?

It is even a vapour,

That appeareth for a little time,

And then vanisheth away

Away dark night, away

I wend my way through windy days

And grope through fearsome night

Eyes shut against the dusty dark

Praying for the light

Groping in the umbral sand

Searching for some light

Dust thou wert and dust thou art

Feeble in the wind

All flesh is as the grass

The flower of the grass

The flower blooms, and fades, and dies

And doesn’t know its end –

Will I? Or will I leave this mortal vale

Taken instantly, not knowing where or when?

And brightly wake in paradise?