One Certainty

Christina Rossetti

1830 to 1894

Poem Image
Track 1

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And morning shall be cold, and twilight gray.
All things are vanity. The eye and ear
Till all things end in the long dust of death.
Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith,
The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem,
Until the ancient race of Time be run,
To-day is still the same as yesterday,
So little joy hath he, so little cheer,
And there is nothing new under the sun:
To-morrow also even as one of them;
Like early dew, or like the sudden breath
Of wind, or like the grass that withereth,
Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear:
Cannot be filled with what they see and hear.

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