51
'Tis but the day-star's earliest glance,
When thou art in thy chamber, and thy knee,
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56
He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend, -
Oh, deem not they are blest alone,
56
My soul were dark,
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With flowers of promise fill the world, within,
O thou whose lips can well repeat,
Oh God! my sins are manifold, against my life they cry, 61
Ye too, the free and fearless Birds of air,
Flowers! when the Saviour's calm benignant eye,
Lo, the lilies of the field,
Imperial beauty! fair, unrivalled one!
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64
Build'st thou on Wealth ?-its wings are ever spread, 65
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