Vanity Of Vanities Poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Vanity Of Vanities

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Ah, woe is me for pleasure that is vain,
Ah, woe is me for glory that is past:
Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last,
Glory that at the last bringeth no gain!
So saith the sinking heart; and so again
It shall say till the mighty angel-blast
Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast,
And showering down the stars like sudden rain.
And evermore men shall go fearfully,
Bending beneath their weight of heaviness;
And ancient men shall lie down wearily,
And strong men shall rise up in weariness;
Yea, even the young shall answer sighingly,
Saying one to another: How vain it is!

Saturday, June 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: vanity
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 14 July 2019

And showering down the stars like sudden rain. And evermore men shall go fearfully, Bending beneath their weight of heaviness; How vain it is. very much biblical tony

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