Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Sometime when you're feeling important;
Sometime when your ego 's in bloom;
Sometime when you take it for granted,
You're the best qualified in the room:
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Sometime when you feel that your going,
Would leave an unfillable hole,
Just follow these simple instructions,
And see how they humble your soul.
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hand in it up to the wrist,
Pull it out and the hole that's remaining,
Is a measure of how much you'll be missed.
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
You can splash all you wish when you enter,
You may stir up the water galore,
But stop, and you'll find that in no time,
It looks quite the same as before.
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The moral of this quaint example,
Is to do just the best that you can,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Be proud of yourself but remember,
There's no indispensable man.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
The Indispensable Man (by Saxon White Kessinger)
O Me! O Life! (by Walt Whitman)