In the quiet of a life,
At the setting of its sun,
When passed away is its strife,
And when all the work is done,
Do not choose this time to say,
“There, but for a fickle fate!”
Let not that time slip away
And then find you dream too late.
Dream your dreams as children ought,
And pursue them with your heart;
Keep them safe in cherished thought,
And give each a fresh new start.
For time will come when dreams pass,
As the setting sun will fade,
And as the dream fulfilled will last,
Dreams forgotten turn to shade.