Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure,- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
He was exhaled; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme, The young men's vision, and the old men's dream!
Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.