Fixed is the term
To all the race of earth
What future bliss
He gives not thee to know
Who knows but He
Whose hand the lightening forms
Who heaves old ocean
And who wings the storms.
Learn to labour, and to pray
Time and tide wait for none
Act in a way that each to-morrow
Find you farther than to-day
Let the dead past bury its dead.
Why don’t you make the
Rest of your life sublime
And before you depart
Why not leave behind
Indelible footprints
On the sands of time
Live in a way that people will
Always remember you with joy.
