From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.

Change lays not her hand upon truth.

The delight that consumes the desire, The desire that outruns the delight.

Sorrow, on wing through the world for ever, Here and there for awhile would borrow Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow.

Let weakness learn meekness.

Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.