Robert Service

Just think! some night the stars will gleam
   Upon a cold, grey stone,
And trace a name with silver beam,
   And lo! ‘twill be your own.

This night is speeding on to greet
   Your epitaphic rhyme.
You life is but a little beat
   Within the heart of Time.

A little gain, a little pain,
   A laugh, lest you may moan;
A little blame, a little flame,
   A star-gleam on a stone.