Oh happy are the eyes that see thee, Dear,
And happy are the ears that hear thy voice:
For sure there beats no heart but must rejoice,
Oh sweet and fair and pure, when thou art near —
Oh happy they! But ah, how dark and drear
The world for me! And is there no redress,
No hope or comfort for the loneliness
Of eyes and ears that neither see nor hear?

Yes, from the black profound of memory,
Wrapped in a cloudy robe of rose and gray,
With scent of morning flowers and melody
Of morning breezes o'er the whispering sea,
Spirit of light and sweetness, young and gay,
Bright from the gates of darkness breaks the day.