Life is a long but narrow route
All travellers a day must cross
Again a short thinned passage
All welfares’ must trample upon
The way well made travellers match.
Sycophant men all in emptiness
The world is a long passage they wane
And looking to and fro in matching
Were we all shall part at last
With hands free of no wealth.
Dilly-dallying crusaders all
Of every type shall sand the earth
Next to the judgment of man
Were justice all shall uphold
Thus man has no possession.