The luck will alter and the star will rise.
His face was filled with broken commandments.
Life's battle is a conquest for the strong; The meaning shows in the defeated thing.
God warms his hands at man's heart when he prays.
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
But he has gone, A nation's memory and veneration, Among the radiant, ever venturing on, Somewhere, with morning, as such spirits will.