I know that the day will come 
when my sight of this earth shall be lost, 
and life will take its leave in silence, 
drawing the last curtain over my eyes. 

Yet stars will watch at night, 
and morning rise as before, 
and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. 

When I think of this end of my moments, 
the barrier of the moments breaks 
and I see by the light of death 
thy world with its careless treasures. 
Rare is its lowliest seat, 
rare is its meanest of lives. 

Things that I longed for in vain 
and things that I got 
---let them pass. 
Let me but truly possess 
the things that I ever spurned 
and overlooked.