8
'Tis said the fairest buds decay;
Perhaps they do, and yet,
Upon the darkest, dullest way
How many flowers are met.
The happy hours so quickly flee,
We sigh to see them fro,
When out upon life's troubled sea
The moments move so slow.
Perhaps they do, and yet,
Upon the darkest, dullest way
How many flowers are met.
The happy hours so quickly flee,
We sigh to see them fro,
When out upon life's troubled sea
The moments move so slow.
Shall sweetest songs be left unsung?
The sweetest themes unread?
The sweetest chords be left unstrung?
The sweetest words unsaid?
When we have but to do our best,
The very best we can,
To have the future richly blest
Of God and truth and man.
The sweetest themes unread?
The sweetest chords be left unstrung?
The sweetest words unsaid?
When we have but to do our best,
The very best we can,
To have the future richly blest
Of God and truth and man.
