Even This Will Pass Away

Even This Will Pass Away

Once in Persia reigned a king, Who upon a signet ring, Carved a maxim strange and wise, When held before his eyes, Gave him counsel at a glance, Fit for every change and chance: Solemn words, and these were they:
“EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Trains of camel through the sand Brought him gems from Samarcand; Fleets of galleys over the seas Brought him pearls to rival these, But he counted little gain, Treasures of the mine or main; “What is wealth?” the king would say,
“EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Mid the pleasures of his court At the zenith of their sport, When the palms of all his guests Burned with clapping at his jests, Seated midst the figs and wine, Said the king, “Ah, friends of mine. Pleasure comes but not to stay,
“EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Woman, fairest ever seen Was the bride he crowned as queen, Pillowed on the marriage-bed Whispering to his soul, he said, “Though no monarch ever pressed Fairer bosom to his breast, Mortal flesh is only clay!
“EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Fighting on the furious field, Once a javelin pierced his shield, Soldiers with a loud lament Bore him bleeding to his tortured side, “Pain is hard to bear;” he cried. “But with patience, day by day,
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Towering in a public square Forty cubits in this air, And the king disguised, unknown, Gazed upon his sculptured name. And he pondered, “What is fame?” “Fame is but a slow decay!
“EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

Struck with palsy, sore and old, Waiting at the gates of gold, Said he with his dying breath “Life is done, but what is Death?” Then as answer to the king Fell a sunbeam on his ring; Showing by a heavenly ray.
EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY.”

—Theodore Tilton