When time, like flights of singing birds, with melody went by,
Have roved amid its fairy bowers, and drank of every stream
Of joy and gladness, till I lived within a blissful dream,
And life, deep ladened with its fruits, slept like a weary child;
This world of ours is beautiful as ’twas when Eden smiled?
This world of ours is beautiful despite what cynics say;
There must be storms in winter time as well as flowers in May;
But what of that?—there’s joy in both the sunshine and the shade,
The light upon the mountain-top, the shadow in the glade.
Be free of Soul, and firm of Heart, read all life’s lessons right,