When All Are Gone

When all are gone and none is left,
When I of youth and health am bereft,
When tongue and pen no longer are deft —
Eternal are you, O God.

Forgotten, reviled may be my name,
My distant memory a motive of shame,
Upon my head a world of blame —
Eternal are you, O God.

The hours may pass in a blur of days,
But I would see to my choice of ways,
To find where falls your fullest praise —
Eternal are you, O God.