My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man.

'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.

Far from the world I walk, and from all care.

In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.

Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever.

There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.