Look Ye upon all that I have done,
and scorn me for for the resolutions I make.  
Laugh in the mornings when I rise from bed,
scorn me then and dwell on my predicament:
I shall waste another hour or two,
and in time solemnity takes hold,
as sea over land: hard rocks to pebbles,
pebbles to dust.  How feeble now the dust!
Look ye at the toiling men and women,  
at the grand facade of Custom House Quay;
This building they floated on a swamp.  
Turn ye and look once again at me,
Look ye upon all that I have done,
look at dust and ash of dust and earth.