Classic Poem

What are earthly honours
But sin's glorious banners?
Let not golden gifts delight thee,
Let not death nor torments fright thee
From thy place thy Captain gives thee;
When thou faintest he relieves thee.
Hark how the lark
Is to the morning singing,
Hark how the bells are ringing,
It is for joy that thou to Heaven art flying:
This is not life; true life is got by dying.