Classic Poem

All withers Here: who most possess
Are Losers by their Gain,
Stung by full Proof, that, bad at best,
Life's idle All is vain:

Vain, in its course, Life's murm'ring Stream;
Did not its Course offend,
But Murmur cease; Life, then, would seem
Still vainer, from its End.

How wretched! who, thro' cruel Fate,
Have nothing to lament?
With the poor Alms this World affords,
Deplorably content?

Had not the Greek his World mistook,
His Wish had been most wise;
To be content with but One World,
Like him, we should despise.

Of Earth's Revenue would you state
A full Account, and fair?
We hope; and hope; and hope; then cast
The Total up —