But the fall shakes our faith and we all but lose hope
When we think of the grave and the worm that devours
These bothersome bodies of ours.
Still, ’tis hard to stay drowned very long in a dream
When one is so restless in body and mind,
So we struggle and flounder from out of the stream
To awake in a cold, clammy sweat, and we find
That the trouble’s a banquet with music and flowers
In these bothersome bodies of ours.
He sang it as though it o’erflowed with his wit,