ALL IS VANITY
It’s appointed once for man to die,
And in the grave forgotten lie,
As flowers that bloom ’neath Nature’s sway,
Mankind is doomed to pass away –
All is vanity.
Tho’ ye be parson, priest or knave,
Wealthy, noble, or servile slave,
Tho’ ye be statesman, poet, or preacher,
Mighty monarch, or Hebrew teacher –
All is vanity.
Tho’ ye have reached the heights of fame,
And the gods of earth applaud thy name,
Tho’ ye possess a diamond cross,
Thy riches are but counted dross –
All is vanity.
Tho’ ye be peasant, prince on king,
And the Psalms o’ David sweetly sing,
Tho’ ye walk the way the saints have trod,
And always seek to serve the lord –
All is vanity.
Tho’ ye the Master’s time redeem,
And preach beneath the moonlight gleam,
Tho’ countless souls ye seek to save,
And cheer the way to the dark, cold grave –
All is vanity.
