Thy Wearied Slave, Strength all Spent
Worn out with the World’s Wars and Woe
Jaded, Bushed, drained, of only in body,
Languishing at the edge of Life.
Yet a peaceful smile beams through
When Thy Joyous Face is seen.Memory speaks of Much Youth and Vigour
Body and Soul on fire with Thy presence
Failing Often, yet full of fruit,
Battered, but never beaten
Bushed, but never weary
A little lilt always is my secure spring
For Thy joyous face was always seen.Now That evening has come
The soft glow of the setting sun
The twilight of Body- Soul Breaking
Bodyless sleep beckons to take the plunge
To rise a fresh free from all pain and passion
A new morn, a new day, a new world
Where the Vision of Thy joyous face never fails.