Oh all things beautiful! God made ye so
That the glad hearts of men might overflow!
O Soul within me, whose wings sweep a lyre--
God gave thee song that thou might'st give him praise;
O Heart that glows with the Promethean fire,
O Spirit whose fine chords some influence plays:
O all sweet thoughts and beautiful emotions,
O smiles and tears, and trembling and delight,
Have ye not all part in the soul's devotions,
To help it swell its anthem's happy height?