The sun rises only to fall.

The sun rises in its glorious brilliance
To kiss the dews on the fresh blooms
But it soon lost its warming radiance
To enter into a cold and silent glooms.

The full moon wakes at the twilight
To bathe the night in its silvery rays
It's soon bereft of its gentle light
Then utter darkness covers our ways.

Man may live to the twilight of his glory
To be reduced to mere dust and clay.
The events of life become agrim story
And beauty becomes corruption and decay.

The straightest tree is firt felled in the forest
Death turns all our eathly glories to vanity
And takes the soul to a peaceful rest
To enjoy the pure love and gladness of eternity.

Since the soul our mortal shells cannot hold
Man must be translated to eternal bliss
The spirit flies to the city built of gold
To partake in the promised perfect pease.
























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































.

The full moon wakes at the twilight
To bathe our night in its silvery rays
It's soon bereft of its gentle light
then utter darkness covers our ways