Man's Duty by David Turow

Man's Duty
David Turow

O, what is mankind but a seed of God,
Producing flowers or thorns or weeds
Of different beliefs, of diff'rent thoughts and deeds,
Of which some bloom, some die, and others rot?

O, what is man but just a tiny plant
That can be led by Fate to glory or to death,
That cannot have in anything firm faith,
Whose leaves by cruel life are torn and rent?

O, what is life but just a plot of soil
Washed out by the rain, dried out by the sun,
By locusts and by weeds, by mice overrun,
Whose best fruits die, and those who don't-spoil?

But do your duty, man, and bring forth fruit
To ward off evil and promote good!