| A Woeful And Miserable Matter, Life Is And It Near Comes To End | |
| Deathe Angel Soars Around All, And Over The World Calls Out: VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! All On Earth Who Breath Bear, Must Fall To The Ground Before His Blaine, And Brief Alone Lives One, To Carve Upon The Wide Tomb: VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! When The Same Earth One Embraces Sees, The Bones Of Common Man And King, What Tells Less? What Tells More? A Marble Stone Or A Mould Of Mould? VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! | |
| The Strong One Puts No Solace In His Power, And The Wise Not In Wisdom, Still What Is Happiness And Joy, Wordly Goods And The Price Of Man? VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! | |
| Behold, The One Whos World Is Cranped, And The One Who Sets Flesh To Arm, Both Shall They Find Room In The End, By The Same Motherns Loin Bosom: | |
| VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! | |
| VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! | |
| VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! | |
| VANITY! PERISHABLENESS! |
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