What shall a man remember
In days when he is old,
And Life is a dying ember,
And Fame a story told?
Power-that came to leave him?
Wealth-to the wild waves blown?
Fame-that came to deceive him?
Ah, no! Sweet Love alone!

Honour, and Wealth, and Power
May all like dreams depart-
But Love is a fadeless flower
Whose roots are in the heart.