I do what many dream of, all their lives

When a man's busy, why leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure: 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.

Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.

Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!

How good is life, the mere living!

So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee.