Come the end, for I am ready;
Come the end, the world is heavy.
Lest I lie, or lest I leave,
The best of me
I will retrieve.
But if I breathe tomorrow my last,
And today is only
A thing of the past,
I will remember
The world and all its contrast:
In light there is darkness,
And in darkness, light;
In living there is dying,
And in dying there is fright;
For every wrong,
There is right;
For every peaceful moment,
Next follows fight.
But if I breathe tomorrow my last,
And today is only
A thing of the past,
I will remember
Only the bitter memories amassed;
And of the seasons long since passed.
Come now, the end,
Whose soft murmurings call out to me,
Like sirens sinking ships out in the green sea.
Come now, the end, the world is heavy;
Come the end, for I am ready.