Rank or gold—of dust the dower!

Fame to wreathe thy wrinkles hoar?

Dotard! death hangs o’er thy hour!

Sin no more!

Art thou blest? False joys caress thee:

And the world’s embraces press thee

To its hot heart’s cankered core:

Waken! Heaven alone can bless thee.

Sin no more!

Art thou wretched? Hath each morrow