Wherefore?

O me! O life!--of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; Of myself for ever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the struggle ever renewed; Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me; Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me intertwined; The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?

ANSWER.

That you are here--that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.