And the dull place that was to us so dull,
And the glad height where, singing like a lark,
We stood, and felt the world all-beautiful,
Seen by the angels’ eyes, bent downward from the skies,
Were just as near to heaven and heaven’s infinities.
So out of sunshine as of deepest shade,
Out of the dust of sordid every-days,
We may look up, and, glad and unafraid,
Call on the Lord for help, and give him praise;
No time nor fate nor space can bar us from his face,