Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too, The world's heart breaks beneath its wars,All things are changed, save in the east,The faithful beauty of the stars.

With my singing I can make, a refuge for my spirit's sake; a house of shining words, to be my fragile immortality.

I found more joy in sorrow than you could find in joy.

Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost; For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be.

Into my heart's treasury I slipped a coin That Time cannot take Nor a thief purloin- O better than the minting Of a gold-crowned king Is the safe-kept memory Of a lovely thing.

Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?

I make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.