The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.

And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.

Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.

What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.

The noonday quiet holds the hill.