The World. Self-Destruction

“A vain Shadow.”

The world,—what a world, ah me! Mouldy, worm-eaten, grey: Vain as a leaf from a tree, As a fading day, As veriest vanity, As the froth and the spray Of the hollow-billowed sea, As what was and shall not be, As what is and passes away.

“Lord, save us, we perish.”

O Lord, seek us, O Lord, find us In Thy patient care; Be Thy Love before, behind us, Round us, everywhere: Lest the god of this world blind us, Lest he speak us fair, Lest he forge a chain to bind us, Lest he bait a snare. Turn not from us, call to mind us, Find, embrace us, bear; Be Thy Love before, behind us, Round us, everywhere.

What is this above thy head, O Man?— The World, all overspread With pearls and golden rays And gems ablaze; A sight which day and night Fills an eye’s span.

What is this beneath thy feet, O Saint?— The World, a nauseous sweet Puffed up and perishing; A hollow thing, A lie, a vanity, Tinsel and paint.

What is she while time is time, O Man?— In a perpetual prime Beauty and youth she hath; And her footpath Breeds flowers thro’ dancing hours Since time began.

While time lengthens what is she, O Saint?— Nought: yea, all men shall see How she is nought at all, When her death-pall Of fire ends their desire And brands her taint.

Ah, poor Man, befooled and slow And faint! Ah, poorest Man, if so Thou turn thy back on bliss And choose amiss! For thou art choosing now: Sinner,—or Saint.