I have desired, and I have been desired;
        But now the days are over of desire,
        Now dust and dying embers mock my fire;
Where is the hire for which my life was hired?
        Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Longing and love, pangs of a perished pleasure,
        Longing and love, a disenkindled fire,
        And memory a bottomless gulf of mire,
And love a fount of tears outrunning measure;
        Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Now from my heart, love's deathbed, trickles, trickles,
        Drop by drop slowly, drop by drop of fire,
        The dross of life, of love, of spent desire;
Alas, my rose of life gone all to prickles,--
        Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Oh vanity of vanities, desire;
        Stunting my hope which might have strained up higher,
        Turning my garden plot to barren mire;
Oh death-struck love, oh disenkindled fire,
        Oh vanity of vanities, desire!