Sweet names, the rosary of my evening prayer, Told on my lips like kisses of good-night To friends who go a little from my sight, And some through distant years shine clear and fair!— So this dear burden that I daily bear Mighty God taketh, and doth loose me quite; And soft I sink in slumbers pure and light With thoughts of human love and heavenly care; But when I mark how into shadow slips My manhood’s prime, and weep fast-passing friends, And heaven’s riches making poor my lips, And think how in the dust love’s labor ends, Then, where the cluster of my hearth-stone shone, “Bid me not live,” I sigh, “till all be gone.”
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