The ripples in the service of the sun
The breeze that dapples leaf-light into shade
The clouds that pass above, they all are one
Upon the same foundation they are laid
And though the precious day be turned to night
Abandoned in that night you shall not be
If but the silver Moon shall shed her light
And by that gentle light we both may see
Be tomorrow darker, shorter, colder
Autumn stealing glory from her brother
Yet the universe shall grow no older
And what is to come shall not be other
The universe endures, I tell no lie
To me it seems not proper that we die
