O Me! O Life!
O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who morefaithless?)Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle everrenew’d;Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.That you are here—that life exists, and identity;That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
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