 | A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects |  |
410
THE Vanity of Human Life.
I
What art thou Man? Why all this Pomp and State?Whence can this haughty Mien, these Looks proceed?
What can this wond'rous Vanity create,
And of thy self this Admiration feed?
II
High Thought of thy Extraction can'st thou have?Art thou not fram'd of Clay, to Worms ally'd?
Rais'd from the Dust, and destin'd to the Grave,
The Grave of all thy Joy, and all thy Pride?
III
Art thou one Moment of thy Life secure?Do's not thy Fate invade thee ev'ry way?
Do's not thy Vital Flame it self devour?
And will not Age and Aches bring decay?
411
IV
What means this Toil? why dost thou Castles build?Why heap up Gold, and stately Houses reer?
Why do'st thou carve thy Roof, thy Chambers gild?
Do'st thou not know, there's no abiding here?
V
Thy Life, a transient Vapour set on Fire,A misty Meteor kindled in the Air,
Will as the Evening's lambent Flames expire,
Or as the Morning Dew soon disappear.
VI
This World's illusive Scenes of Vanity,Of painted Pageants, and of gaudy Toys,
Can lasting Treasure ne'er supply,
Nor pure Delight, that never cloys.
412
VII
All real Pleasure that we here enjoy,Is on our pious Actions to reflect,
Our Lives in Virtue constant to employ,
And the Reward of Virtue to expect.
| A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects | |