Oh you scattered roses on which we tread;

You lead to a church with its holy prayer,

And its Heaven-blessing over us shed!

[pg 29]

Nightingales singing an exquisite tune

All the sweet music for me and for you,

Saying my prayers by the light of the moon,

Happy the prayers that are utter'd for two!

Stars in the depth of a fathomless space,

Summer-blue sky by no shadow o'ercast,

Joy pointing on to a far-away grace

Brighter than e'en the beneficent past;

Trouble to measureless distances fled,

Death too remote to be worthy a sigh—

Can there be any one sorry or dead?

Sorrow or death 'neath a summer-blue sky!

[pg 30]

Was there a moment we never had met?

Was there a time unexalted by him?

Shone the same lustre in suns when they set?

 Prev. P 22/110 next