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;
Received 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.