The Truth
Oh! why is the world as it is, we ask,
With tears in our voice, and a sigh:
For nothing remains but an unfinished task,
While beauty is only hypocrisy’s mask,
The end of it all—but to die.
Believe me, the world is a place full of joy,
And happiness stretches afar:
Alas! that the workings of man should destroy
The meaning of God, with the deeds they employ,
Oh! why are we all as we are?
