When All Is Done, And My Last Word Is Said, And Ye Who Loved Me Murmur, "He Is Dead," Let No One Weep, For Fear That I Should Know, And Sorrow Too That Ye Should Sorrow So. When All Is Done And In The Oozing Clay, Ye Lay This Cast-Off Hull Of Mine Away, Pray Not For Me, For, After Long Despair, The Quiet Of The Grave Will Be A Prayer. For I Have Suffered Loss And Grievous Pain, The Hurts Of Hatred And The World'S Disdain, And Wounds So Deep That Love, Well-Tried And Pure, Had Not The Pow'R To Ease Them Or To Cure. When All Is Done, Say Not My Day Is O'Er, And That Thro' Night I Seek A Dimmer Shore: Say Rather That My Morn Has Just Begun,-- I Greet The Dawn And Not A Setting Sun, When All Is Done.