 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
[The whole of this great world, I say]
The whole of this great world, I say,
From the first to the last born,
Since it passes swift away,
Is not worth a barley-corn.
From the first to the last born,
Since it passes swift away,
Is not worth a barley-corn.
To some better world than this
Hie thee—open wide the door
To some chamber—such there is—
Whence thou shalt depart no more.
Hie thee—open wide the door
To some chamber—such there is—
Whence thou shalt depart no more.
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |