This Too Shall Pass Poem by David Mitchell

Condemn'd to think, condemn'd to feel,
Condemn'd to languid sorrow,
I wonder when Death comes to heal
And take me to Tomorrow.

I've lived for long enough to yearn
For something I can bear:
But where on earth have I to turn
From sorrow and despair?

I will not cease my earthly life
Until my dying hour:
No more will this soul-crushing strife
While I to breathe have power.

I sometimes feel, I sometimes think,
I can no more go on;
Then into an abyss I sink
And weep there, woebegone.

So where have I to turn on earth
That I to life may cleave?
Where may I find some joy or mirth,
That sighs I need not heave?

I may not find mirth anywhere –
For me, at any rate;
But while there still are some who care,
Then I can bear this weight.

I do not think that I could cope
For ever on my own:
But sometimes I cannot but mope
And sob and sigh, alone.

I know in time THIS TOO SHALL PASS
And done shall be my sorrow:
And Gabriel sounds the final brass
And we will wake tomorrow.