Scatter thy bread upon the hungry main;
This thou, in tract of time, shalt find again.
Thy alms dispense to many; yet to more;
Famine or war perhaps may make thee poor.
Be like the clouds in bounty; which on all
The thirsty earth in show'rs profusely fall.
Like pregnant trees, that shed on ev'ry side
Their riper fruit; to none that stoop denied.
They shall not sow who for a calm defer,
Nor shall they reap whom gloomy skies deter.
Know'st thou from whence the struggling tempests come,
Or how our bones are fashion'd in the womb?
Much less His greatness canst comprise, Who made
The globe of earth, and radiant heav'n display'd.
The seed of charity at sunrise sow,
And when he sets into the furrows throw:
Know'st thou if this or that increase shall yield?
Or both with grateful ears invest thy field?
How sweet is light! how pleasant to behold
The mounted sun descend in beams of gold!
Yet, though a man live long, long in delight,
Let him remember that approaching night,
Which shall in endless darkness close his eyes;
Then will he all as vanity despise.
Young man, rejoice; thy heart's desires fulfill;
No other lord acknowledge but thy will;
Thy senses freely feast: yet shalt thou come
To God's tribunal, and receive thy doom.
Decline His wrath, and sin-inflicting pain:
For both the bud and flow'r of youth are vain.
Think of thy Maker in thy better days,
Before the vigour of thy age decays;
Before that sad and tedious time draw nigh,
When thou shalt loathe thy life, and wish to die.
Before th' informing sun, the cheerful light,
The various moon, and ornaments of night,
In vain for thee their shining tapers bear,
Or fretting drops of rain deep furrows wear.
When they shall tremble who the house defend,
And the strong columns which support it bend.
The grinders fail, reduced to a few,
The watch no objects through their casements view;
Those doors shut up that open to the street,
And when th' unarmed guarders softly meet.
The bird of dawning raise thee with his voice,
Nor thou in women or their songs rejoice.
When thou shalt fear the roughness of the way,
When ev'ry pebble shall thy passage stay.
When th' almond-tree his boughs invests with white;
The locust stoops: then dead to all delight
Man must at length to his long home descend:
Behold, the mourners at his gates attend.
Advise, before the silver cord grows slack,
Before the golden bowl asunder crack,
Before the pitcher at the fountain leak,
Or wasted wheel besides the cistern break.
Man, made of earth, resolves into the same:
His soul ascends to God, from Whom it came.
O restless vanity of vanities!
All is but vanity, the Preacher cries.
He who was wise, the people knowledge taught;
His lines with well-digested proverbs fraught.
He found out matter to delight the mind,
And ev'ry word he writ by truth was sign'd.
Wise sentences are goads; nails closely driv'n
By grave instructors: by one pastor giv'n.
And now, my son, be thou admonished
By what thou hast already heard and read.
There is of making many books no end;
And studious night th' intentive spirits spend.
Of all the sum: Fear God, His laws obey:
Man's duty; to felicity the way.
For He shall ev'ry work, each secret thing,
Both good and bad, to public judgment bring.