Though the diamond gleams like a lesser sun;
Oh, ne'er can they, e'en in thought compare,
With my chosen beauty, my purest one.
"'For mine, far sweeter than rose doth bloom,
In our world of sorrow, of woe, and care;
E'en light of the diamond seemeth gloom,
To that halo divine that shineth where;
"'My fairest thing upon all the earth,
A little child kneeleth down to pray,
And sweeter than sound of ocean's mirth