That earth no bloom of fadeless beauty gives,
That far beyond the things that sense can feel,
The joy of being, and of having, lives.
IV
Lord Who hast risen, nor left the world behind,
Daily incline our sense-bound souls to soar,
Till ’mong the things all hidden we may find
Possessions that abide for evermore.
I
Wake to the songs that lips unsullied sing,