A Hymn

The grey aims are all done.
Now welcome the new flame,
That kills with a remorseless light,
The order of the same.

The labors of each day,
Administered in time,
We leave to Measure and to Death,
With each unruly chime.

This small world has no pow'r,
To keep the flame apart.
The fixed economy of law,
Dissolves in every heart

Now teach me to forget,
The duties hard and clear,
And welcome, without certainty,
The King of love and fear