Call it not chance the link that binds men's hearts,
But Heaven's sacred gift to sweeten life.
It is the hand divine that guides man's life
From the inception to the very end;
Nay more, sees even after that life's end,
Its own appointed destiny is reached,
To take fresh shape, its course to run anew,
And reap what it had sown before, for take
The tree, its fruit but falls to reach its base.
The calf his mother easily doth find