We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.

We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.

Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, Know you why you cannot rest? 'Tis that every mother's son Travails with a skeleton. Lie down in the bed of dust; Bear the fruit that bear you must; Bring the eternal seed to light, And morn is all the same as night.

I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.

There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.

The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.