Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost.
Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.
Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.