When sands run out and fervid colors fade,
Dark clouds arise and choke the living sun;
On Heaven’s air a solemn requiem plays…
The gloaming whispers that my work is done,
Time to snuff out the candle, close the door,
Ascend the stairway to the waiting bed;
Loose the scabbard, hang up the arms I wore
And lay the body down—all done and said;
No more the endless siege, the battles drawn,
No more the grand pursuit – horse, hound and horn,
No more the tender warmth of hearts once won,
Nor weight of fallen comrades, duty borne,
Now shall I rest where God’s dear memories keep,
And noble dreams lie folded into sleep.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.