O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithlessof cities filld with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more
Of eyes that vainly crave the lightof the objects meanof the struggle ever
Of the poor results of allof the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the restwith the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurringWhat good amid these, O me, O life?
That you are herethat life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.