hours of reflection.
Oh, man! if earth were all to thee,
Thy measure of eternity,
And no pure scene of heavenly bliss
To raise thy soul from dross in this,
The boon of life I would not crave—
A whirl of nothings, to the grave:
But when we feel a God is nigh—
The master-spirit of the sky—
And know that one all-perfect plan
Rules, guides, directs, and comforts man,
We feel that Time was made to be
The preface to Eternity:
And man's ennobled feelings rise,
To find a shelter in the skies:
And earth-born feelings sink to rest,
'Neath bright religion's holy crest.
Oh! blessed thought, for man to find
The soul is an undying mind,
That hies to regions brighter far
Than any world-adorning star,
Or all of beauty thought could ever
Concentrate in one whole together.
Thy measure of eternity,
And no pure scene of heavenly bliss
To raise thy soul from dross in this,
The boon of life I would not crave—
A whirl of nothings, to the grave:
But when we feel a God is nigh—
The master-spirit of the sky—
And know that one all-perfect plan
Rules, guides, directs, and comforts man,
We feel that Time was made to be
The preface to Eternity:
And man's ennobled feelings rise,
To find a shelter in the skies:
And earth-born feelings sink to rest,
'Neath bright religion's holy crest.
Oh! blessed thought, for man to find
The soul is an undying mind,
That hies to regions brighter far
Than any world-adorning star,
Or all of beauty thought could ever
Concentrate in one whole together.
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