Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

The many fail: the one succeeds.

From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.

What are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?

In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.

What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?