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.

a rare old plant is the ivy green!