If the hours of life are fleeting,
Let those hours be well employed!
Working, resting, parting, meeting,
Life was given to be enjoyed.
And the enjoyment that is meetest,
In this life's vicissitude,
Best, and holiest, and sweetest,
Is the bliss of doing good.
Doing good! 'tis this that measures
Every merit, every claim:
Life's a school, and books are treasures
To direct us in our aim.
Wisely taught and well directed,
May our fleeting hours be past,
And by Heavenly care protected,
May we meet in heaven at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem