A spark of divine fire
Into the heart hurled,
Kindles with pure desire
A child of the world.
To this lot assigned,
This joy once possessed,
Say, can one so blessed
On earth be sad?
Yet hours may come when the spirit will fail,
Petty cares, like a swarm of flies, assail;
Midst the current of life, with gasping breath,
Waiting I stand, for the summons of death.
Doubting, I question if earth is to me
So grand, so blissful a reality;
Outweighing all the burdens of my life,
My aimless days of fruitless toil and strife.