Alexandria Gazette & Daily Advertiser

"O, WHAT IS THE WORLD?"

O what is the world, which is talked of so much,
Whose pleasures so highly are priz'd?
Affliction may tell; for her tenderest touch
Proves it folly, by cunning disguis'd:
Thy lessons, adversity! teach us a truth,
Disbeliev'd in prosperity—slighted in youth.
How anxious for riches, the multitude toil!
How many are seeking for fame? They moil,
In the race how they pant, and forget the turn
That the world may be fill'd—with a name!
Ah! few, very few, stay to think of the hour
When wealth will be useless, and impotent power.
What crowds live for nought, but to eat and to sleep,
Who would tremble their lives to resign?
What thousands in sickness and poverty weep,
Who repine?
Who at death's dread approach would not shudder and dread at death?
Now if, on the earth there were genuine faith,
Would the poor and the wretched so shudder?
All, all are in love with the world. They pursue
Some end, they can scarce hope to gain:
Each morn they commence with an ardency new,
Each night of fatigue they complain;
Nor remember, so weary and busy they are,
That distant is happiness—distant how far!
The true art of life is to fill up our hours
With works for the good of mankind;
Here, here's a vocation, well worthy the powers
Of the best and the loftiest mind:
The task is but light yet immense the reward
Of him, who thus labors—to imitate GOD!
What our hands find to do, let us do with our might;
And, the days of our usefulness o'er,
Though melt we away in death's shadowy night,
The faithful shall Heaven restore:
Who then would in pleasure's dull vortex be hurl'd,
And live for self only? O what is the world?