Life’s relief in her embrace so sweet. When all fades dark and your worry retreat Come quick o Death to end our drum’s long beat. To God we run in joyous dread to meet. Our souls to be free and our hearts to mend, For the beauty of life is in its end.
Our purpose, burden, passion and desire, To great heights ascend and knowledge acquire. In blindness we madly run to her fire. To this futile end, we shall never tire. Never to stop, never to find our peace. Passing by joy, our goal never to cease.
Dawn of our Journey, joy and pain to bring. Her blinding light the first warm breeze of spring Her touch the spark of dreams and suffering. Of her kind gifts we curse and praise and sing. So shall the mountains rise and fools be born. A mother to look down on us and mourn.