The body lives in constant dread of death—
One course alone is proof against alarm,
Renounce the world, and safety may be won.
One hundred years[47] is the appointed span
Of human life, one half of this goes by
In sleep and night; one half the other half
In childhood and old age; the rest is passed
In sickness, separation, pain, and service—
How can a human being find delight
In such a life, vain as a watery bubble?