It always seemed so queer to me
That all man’s life is like a flea’s
That comes and falls to springly flowers
And ticks away upon all hours

Remarkable is not a word
That comes to mind to be unheard
When speaking of humanity
But I ask, “What of sanity? ”

Are we not things upon a rock?
Of transcendent reason that we mock
To be ended, and born, a flock
With seconds ticking on our clock

Yet I can’t help but humbly see
Man’s place in this eternity
Of hopes and wishes unfulfilled
But dreams for such grounds to be tilled

Matthew Thomas Donovan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-remarkable-man/