Classic Poem

The World did say to me,
‘My bread thou shalt not eat,
I have no place for thee
In house nor field nor street.

‘I have no land nor sea
For thee, nor home nor bread;
I scarce can give to thee
A grave when thou art dead.’

‘O crazy World,’ said I,
‘What is it thou canst give,
Which wanting, I must die,
Or having, I shall live?

‘When thou thy all hast spent,
And all thy harvests cease,
I still have nutriment
That groweth by decrease.

‘Thy streets will pass away,
Thy towers of steel be rust,
Thy heights to plains decay,
Thyself be whirling dust;

‘But I go ever on
I mount from prime to prime,
From an eternal throne
I govern Chance and Time.

‘Then, crazy World,’ said I,
‘What is it thou canst give,
Which wanting, I must die,
Or having, I shall live?’