We Are But Passing Through
History, crumbles, before our eyes
And walking past, we wonder not
Someday, for all that we are
We too, like those who here lived, will be forgot…
These walls, they are but stone walls
And as the Lord upon his throne
Who once ruled here, he died
So shall we, being but skin and bone
And the stone buildings great we build
So that known long will be our fame
Shall be – our names forgotten long – but
A picture for a frame.