Wine, No. 56

Hear, O thou earth, hear, thou encircling sea, Yea, all that live beneath the sun, hear ye How of this world the bravery and the glory Are but vain forms and shadows transitory, Even as all things 'neath Time's empire show By their short durance and swift overthrow! Nothing avails the dignity of kings, Naught, naught avail the strength and stuff of things; The wisdom of the arts no succour brings; Genus and species help not at death's hour, No man was saved by gold in that dread stour; The substance of things fadeth as a flower, As ice 'neath sunshine melts into a shower. Where is Plato, where is Porphyrius? Where is Tullius, where is Virgilius? Where is Thales, where is Empedocles, Or illustrious Aristoteles? Where's Alexander, peerless of might? Where is Hector, Troy's stoutest knight? Where is King David, learning's light? Solomon where, that wisest wight? Where is Helen, and Paris rose-bright? They have fallen to the bottom, as a stone rolls: Who knows if rest be granted to their souls? But Thou, O God, of faithful men the Lord, To us Thy favour evermore afford When on the wicked judgment shall be poured!