A Testimony Christina Rossetti

I said of laughter, it is vain.
        Of mirth I said, what profits it?
        Therefore I found a book, and writ
Therein how ease and also pain,
How health and sickness, everyone
Is vanity beneath the sun.

Man walks in a vain shadow; he
        Disquieteth himself in vain.
        The things that were shall be again.
The rivers do not fill the sea,
But turn back to their secret source;
The winds too turn upon their course.

Our treasures moth and rust corrupt,
        Or thieves break through and steal, or they
        Make themselves wings and fly away.
One man made merry as he supped,
Nor guessed how when that night grew dim
His soul would be required of him.

We build our houses on the sand,
        Comely withoutside and within;
         But when the winds and rains begin
To beat on them, they cannot stand;
They perish, quickly overthrown,
Loose from the very basement stone.