Though our labour soon devours all that lies within our powers
Soon it’s late and all our hours into past’s abyss have tore;
See, the light of Heaven’s fire pales both fame and funeral pyre;
Earthly glory, gain & hire lose the glimmer that they wore
Light of heaven pales the shallow grace and glimmer that they wore;
Now they sway us — soon, no more.
For we find in all the ages, men whose passing life presages
Life beyond our dusty cages, light behind that darkest door;
May we, as we end this chapter, freed from earth, our sometime captor,
Hail the advent of an apter sphere for all our souls to soar;
Hail, in death, the ageless God whose sight will make our souls to soar,
Dying as we lived before.
