Lord Lytton

We are but as the instrument of Heaven.
Our work is not design, but destiny.

We are but as the instrument of Heaven.
Our work is not design, but destiny.

Meanwhile, there is dancing in yonder green bower,
A swarm of young midges, they dance high and low;
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Meanwhile, there is dancing in yonder green bower,
A swarm of young midges, they dance high and low;
'Tis a sweet little species that lives but one hour,
And the eldest was born half an hour ago.

O hour, of all hours, the most blesse'd upon earth,
The bless'd hour of our dinners!

O hour, of all hours, the most blesse'd upon earth,
The bless'd hour of our dinners!

There is purpose in pain,
Otherwise it were devilish.

There is purpose in pain,
Otherwise it were devilish.

God be thank'd that the dead have left still
Good undone for the living to do--
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God be thank'd that the dead have left still
Good undone for the living to do--
Still some aim for the heart and the will
And the soul of a man to pursue.