Evening...

Mildly divested of his cumbrous shell--
His earthly tendencies all loose, or dead--
Sorrow, and suff'ring, threat'ning him no more--
The agéd pilgrim hails the goal in view;
And gladly doffs his soiled and tattered garb,
For the pure robes that the redeemed put on;
New health, new vigour, swell his shrunken veins!
New beauty tints his cheek! Heav'nly virtue
Fills his new being full of ecstasy!
And glorious youth, and everlasting life,
Are his inheritance for ever more!