Marvels do not existEqual to the joy-In dim light and quiet night,To drift away to......Tranquil landsGreen grassAnd nothing besidesLet wonder at the wind and the waterAnd fields full of life,As plain as a single flowerWhich in such country as thisCan grow Fleeting,Across the sky painted with clouds,Is all that we may doOur friend for our time here-Endless possibilityThe choir singingThe soul of the worldAll that is.All that will be.All is spread before us -In a green country In youth we runAnd age we are stillEach has its place,More sacred than any prayer:This is the world's altarEnveloped by air and earthNature's embrace We come from peaceAnd stillnessAnd we end at it;We come from nothing,And return to nothing,And that is not so bad The world does not end with a roar,But a sigh A sigh of satisfaction.