- Ah, Life, dear Life, how beautiful art thou!
All day sweet, chiming voices in my heart
Have hymned thy praises joyfully as now,
Telling how fair thou art!
This morn, while yet the dew was on the flowers,
They sang like skylarks, soaring while they sing
This noon, like birds within their leafy bowers
Warbled with folded wing.
Slow fades the twilight from the glowing west,
And one pale star hangs o'er yon mountain's brow;
With deeper joy, that may not be repressed,
O Life, they hail thee now!
And not alone from this poor heart of mine
Do these glad notes of grateful love ascend;
Voices from mount and vale and woodland shrine
In the full chorus blend.
The young leaves feel thy presence and rejoice
The while they frolic with the happy breeze;
And paeans sweeter than a seraph's voice
Rise from the swaying trees.
Each flower that hides within the forest dim,
Where mortal eye may ne'er its beauty see,
Waves its light censer, while it breathes a hymn
In humble praise of thee.