O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
 Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the
 foolish;
 Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
 and who more faithless?)
 Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the
 struggle ever renew'd;
 Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
 around me;
 Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me
 intertwined;
 The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O
 life?

 Answer.

 That you are here--that life exists, and identity;
 That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.