From child to youth; from youth to arduous man;
 From lethargy to fever of the heart;
 From faithful life to dream-dower'd days apart;
 From trust to doubt; from doubt to brink of ban;--
 Thus much of change in one swift cycle ran
 Till now. Alas, the soul!--how soon must she
 Accept her primal immortality,--
 The flesh resume its dust whence it began?

 O Lord of work and peace! O Lord of life!
 O Lord, the awful Lord of will! though late,
 Even yet renew this soul with duteous breath:
 That when the peace is garner'd in from strife,
 The work retriev'd, the will regenerate,
 This soul may see thy face, O Lord of death!