I sing of starry dreams come true,
 Of hopes fulfilled;
Of rich reward beyond my due,
 Of harvest milled.
The full fruition of the years Is mine to hold, And in despite of toil and tears The sun is gold.
I have no hate for any one On this good earth; My days of hardihood are done, And hushed my hearth.
No echo of a world afar Can trouble me; Above a grove the evening star Serene I see.
No jealousy nor passion base Can irk me now; Recieved am I unto God's grace With tranquil brow.
Adieu to love I have and hold, Farewell to friend; In peace and faith my hands I fold And wait the end.

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