Classic Poem

My earthly friends have turn'd my foes,
So cruel and unjust,
That I expect, to end my woes,
More friendship in the dust.

No house of pleasure here 'bove ground,
Do I expect to have;
My bed of rest for sleeping sound,
I've made the silent grave.

Lo! welcome death on me attends,
The hungry grave me waits;
These made I my familiar friends,
My relatives and mates.

I to corruption cry'd, O dust,
Thou art my father known;
From thee I came, to thee I must
Return as ev'n thine own.

I to the worm said, Brother worm,
And sister, you and I
Do differ but in size and form,
We are of kin so nigh.

I'm but a mortal worm like you;
This loathsome piece of clay
Must to your pow'r a booby bow,
Until the rising day.