Vanity of Vanities
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.
Ye shall pass and be forgot,
And your place shall know you not.
Other generations rise,
With the same hope in their eyes
That in yours is kindled now,
And the same light on their brow.
They shall see the selfsame sun
That your eyes now gaze upon,
They shall breathe the same sweet air,
And shall reck not who ye were.
Yet they too shall fade at last
In the twilight of the past,
They and you alike shall be
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