Labours hours have passed again
With the smudge of a million fires,
And even comes like a frosted pane,
To trim mans hope as it expires.

Sweetheart once, now old and bent,
Must need give up her lifelong lease;
A kindly heart, life well spent,
Is content to go lie in peace.

Other kitchens light anon,
Another kitty on the sill;
As before nature rolls on,
Other faces the good house fill.

Is this, friend, your luckless end,
Is this the galling hope you wait?
What’s the story you have penned,
Your ultimate hope and fate?

Gods angel rolled back the stone,
From the grave of his buried son;
His hope is the hope we own,
T’was for you, He, the battle won.