I Wish My Sun May Never Set,

When I Behold The Heavens As In Their Prime, And Then The Earth (though Old) Still Clad In Green, The Stones And Trees, Insensible Of Time, Nor Age Nor Wrinkle On Their Front Are Seen

Fire Hath Its Force Abated By Water, Not By Wind; And Anger Must Be Allayed By Cold Words, And Not By Blustering Threats.

I Wish My Sun May Never Set, But Burn.

Flesh Of My Flesh, Bone Of My Bone, I Here, Though There, Yet Both But One.

Some Laborers Have Hard Hands, And Old Sinners Have Brawny Consciences.