So be my passing My task accomplished and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gathered in the quiet west, The sundown splendid and serene, Death.
So be my passing My task accomplished and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gathered in the quiet west, The sundown splendid and serene, Death.
Men may scoff, and men may pray, But they pay Every pleasure with a pain.
What have I done for you, England, my England; What is there I would not do, England, my own.
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies.
In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud: Under the bludgeoning of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.
It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll; I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
Night with her train of stars And her great gift of sleep.
I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.
The pomp, the pride, the royal show?
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be; For my unconquerable soul.
Madam, Life's a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere She's the tenant of the room He's the ruffian on the stair.
Envoy
Prince, pride must have a fall.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories