“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into the Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lieSans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!Alike for those who for To-day prepare,And those that after some To-morrow stare,A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.”

“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and - sans End!”

“When your soul and minehave left our bodies and we areburried alongside each other,a Potter may one day mouldthe dust of both of usinto the same clay.”

“We shall perishalong the path of Love.Fate will trample us. Yeah, temptingyoung woman, get up and give me your lipsbefore I return to dust.”

“There was a water-drop, it joined the sea,A speck of dust, it was fused with earth;what of your entering and leaving this world?A fly appeared, and disappeared.”

“Would you be happy! hearken, then, the way:Heed not to-morrow, heed not yesterday;The magic words of life are here and now -O fools, that after some to-morrow stray!”

“Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,Is it not a Shame--is it not a Shame for himSo long in this Clay suburb to abide!”