Heedless the spirit, beseeching, that cries!
Helpless the mortal who sorrows and frets!
What is the use of a garland of sighs?
What is the use of a sheaf of regrets?
Cast in the midst of the limitless skies,
Lost in the æons that e’en God forgets.
Merely a life-light that flashes and dies,
Merely a soul-spark that glimmers and sets—
These are the glories that “being” begets,
Granted alike to the foolish and wise—