We're only here for a while, and it's all, all a joke

From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither; here am I.

Now - for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart -
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.

- A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad