A little work, a little play,
To keep us going—and so, good day!
A little warmth, a little light,
Of love's bestowing—and so, good night!
A little fun, to match the sorrow
Of each day's growing—and so, good morrow!
A little trust that when we die
We reap our sowing! and so — good-bye!

Trilby (1894), pt. VIII