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"Wherefore is it that we live and die?"
Who thus questioned lived a life of light,
And full many a soul in sorrow's night
Blest him in its thought when out of sight;
While each child of misery passing by
Knew why he was born, but not why he should die.

"For God’s glory do we live and die:"
Who thus answered thrust the asker out
With the unforgiven, for his doubt;
Yet his own life was a silent flout
To the God whom it should glorify:
None knew why he was born, or why he should not die.

poem by Charlotte Fiske Bates from Century Magazine, vol. 49 (1894)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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