Nothing

The sun comes up and the sun goes down,

And the day and the night are the same as one;

The year grows green and the year grows brown,

And what is it all when all is done?

Grains of sombre or shining sand,

Sliding into and out of hand.

And men go down in ships to the sea,

And a thousand ships are the same as one;

And backward and forward blows the breeze,

And what is it all when all is done?

A tide with never a shore in sight,

setting steadily on towards night.

The fisherman droppeth his net in the stream,

And a hundred streams are the same as one;

The maiden dreameth her love-lit dream,

And what is it all when all is done?

The fisher's net the burden breaks,

And after the dreaming the dreamer awakes!