That power Which erring men call Chance.
Seas wept from our deep sorrows.
The conquer'd, also, and enslaved by war, Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose.
Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north - wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.
What hath night to do with sleep?