Dear All,
Below is poem “Even This Will Pass Away” written by the poet Theodore Tilton on the transience of events and occurrences in life and how Time does not stop at either a happy or sad occasion. This concept gives a lot of strength to face life. I came across this in Swami Sivanandaji’s literature and he suggested to write this on a piece of paper and keep it with you in your pocket. I did it accordingly. I even have it in my office prominently where I can see while working. It helps me to remind myself that any elation or any depression is bound to pass away.
EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY !
By Theodore Tilton
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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