Joys Too Exquisite To Last,

Blue Thou Art, Intensely Blue; Flower, Whence Came Thy Dazzling Hue?

Joys Too Exquisite To Last, And Yet More Exquisite When Past.

Yet Nightly Pitch My Moving Tent, A Day's March Nearer Home.

There Is A Flower, A Little Flower With Silver Crest And Golden Eye, That Welcomes Every Changing Hour, And Weathers Every Sky.

If God Hath Made This World So Fair, Where Sin And Death Abound, How Beautiful Beyond Compare Will Paradise Be Found!