What rapture fills thy spirit, borne on contemplation’s wing,
What charms, oh, beauteous canopy! thy varied aspects bring.
From the French of Anna H. P. Le Chatelain.
This world is all a fleeting show,
For man’s illusion given;
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,
There’s nothing true but heaven.
And false the light on glory’s plume,
As fading hues of even,