Пожалуйста… Очень нужно

When life as opening buds is sweet, And golden hopes the fancy greet,And Youth prepares his joys to meet,-Alas! how hard it is to die! When just is seized some valued prize,And duties press, and tender tiesForbid the soul from earth to rise,-How awful then it is to die! When, one by one, those ties are torn,And friend from friend is snatched forlorn,And man is left alone to mourn,-Ah then, how easy 'tis to die! When faith is firm, and conscience clear,And words of peace the spirit cheer,And visioned glories half appear,-'Tis joy, 'tis triumph then to die.When trembling limbs refuse their weight,And films, slow gathering, dim the sight,And clouds obscure the mental light,-'Tis nature's precious boon to die.