No matter how he toil and strive br The fate of every man alive br With luck will be to lie alone, br His empty name cut in a stone. br br Grim time the fairest fame will flout, br But though his name be blotted out, br And he forgotten with his peers, br His stone may wear a year of years. br br No matter how we sow and reap br The end of all is endless sleep; br From strife a merciful release, br From life the crowning prize of Peace.