Classic Poem

For nothing, nothing lasts; the world is dreaming
Of future joys that earthly bliss transcend;
When dead, I say, our souls with nothing blend.
Death is the sad, inevitable end,
And after, there is hope not, nor redeeming.

And that is why I love in vales Judean
To wander, drinking life at every pore,
Praising the sea and worshiping the shore,
For I shall once more die and hear no more
The voice of spring-time and the linnet's paean.

And that is why I linger in the gladness
Of town and village, mountain-way and plain,
Moved, even in my unutterable pain,
With love for all I shall not see again,
Filled with perpetual and persistent sadness.