My sun sets to rise again. - Robert Browning

Well, are we demigods or merely clay?
Is success still attendant on desert?
Is this, we live on, heaven and the final state,
Or earth which means probation to the end?
Why claim escape from man's predestined lot
Of being beaten and baffled? — God's decree,
In which I, bowing bruised head, acquiesce.

That we devote ourselves to God, is seen
In living just as though no God there were.

Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be.