Be Thy Sleep Silent As Night Is,

All Was Ended Now, The Hope, And The Fear And The Sorrow, All The Aching Of The Heart, The Restless, Unsatisfied Longing, All The Dull, Deep Pain, And Constant Anguish Of Patience!

For His Heart Was In His Work, And The Heart Giveth Grace Unto Every Art.

The Rays Of Happiness, Like Those Of Light, Are Colorless When Unbroken.

Now To Rivulets From The Mountains Point The Rods Of Fortune-tellers; Youth Perpetual Dwells In Fountains, Not In Flasks, And Casks, And Cellars.

Ah, To Build, To Build! That Is The Noblest Of All The Arts.