AH! well-a-day, in all the earth
What can one do?
Where for amusement seek, or mirth?
Ah! well-a-day, in all the earth
What can one do
To cease from yawning here below?
Of mortal man, what is the rôle?
To bustle, eat, and labor ply;
To plot, grow old, and then to die?
Not very lively this, or droll
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
No wonder in my mind begets
The sun, which poets call sublime;
Not this the first or second time
He rises, runs his race, and sets.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
To one dull course the seasons cling:
For full five thousand years we view
The summer following after spring,
And winter autumn’s close pursue.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
239
My watch (a friend of little use),
Whose hands their tedious circuit ply,
Tells me how slow the hours fly,
Not how I may my hours amuse.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
I half the world have traveled o’er,
To see if men diversion found;
But everywhere, on every ground,
I saw what I had seen before.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
In weariness which I abhorred,
Wishing to know how sped the great,
I dined with men of high estate,
And murmured as I left their board,
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
Wishing to see if, when in love,
Life some unworn amusement has,
Love I attempted, but alas!
Love in all climes the same doth prove.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
Thus being, at this early age,
Of all things sick, both night and day,
In hopes to be more blithe and gay
I did in settled life engage.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
240
The street where now my life I led.
By neighborhood my steps brought on
To th’ Institute and Odéon,
Which every day I visited.
Ah! well-a-day, etc.
By writing this (hope quickly gone),
To cheer my spirits I essayed;
But yawned the while this song was made,
And now I sing it, still I yawn:
Ah! well-a-day, etc.