THE STORY OF SOLOMON WASTE

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.

Always hurrying yet never in haste,

He fussed and worked and toiled all frothing

And at the end of all did nothing.

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.

He lived in wishing and in striving,

And nothing came of all his living;

He worked and toiled in rain and sweat,

And nothing came out of all that.

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.

He thought much and had no conviction,

His feeling was at best affliction

Though tender he and hating evil

He might have gained the name of devil.

His every wish and resolution

Even in his mind was but confusion.

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.

And things begun and never ended,

And much undone and much intended,

And all things wrong yet never mended:

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.

Each day new projects did betray,

Yet each day was like every day.

He was born and died and between these

He worried himself himself to tease.

He bustled, worried, moved and cried

But in his life no more's descried

Than two clear facts: he lived and died.

This is all the story of Solomon Waste.