Ecclesiastes

Oh vanity of vanities
And following of wind
Through the dim avenues and deep
Abysses of the mind;
When will our ears be deaf at last,
When will our eyes be blind?

Oh vanity of vanities
And lighter than the air.
And restless hearts unsatisfied
With searching everywhere;
When will the restless heart be still,
And loosened from its care?

Oh vanity of sorrowing
And emptiness of mirth,
And wandering fires of thought in clay
Imprisoned at our birth,
When will the wandering fires go out,
And earth return to earth?

Oxford, 1913