The Joys of the Good

Let men of worldly power and arts
The future love, the present hate;
It is the gift of holy hearts
The bliss of heaven to ante-date.

While sighing worldlings oft exclaim,
The hours are passing swift away;
To those of heavenly heart and name
They circle round, but love to stay.

Our heart's emotions are as flowers,
When cloth'd with pearls of morning dew;
With these we crown the passing hours,
With chaplets bright and ever new.

Not night more surely comes to day,
And day succeeds to starry night,
Than joys unnumber'd find their way
To bosoms bath'd in heavenly light.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXVII.