Not the unshriven wrong or the unpaid debt
Here in the crumbling years is my worst regret—
Rather the memory of one joy wasted:
Of a stupid, youthful righteousness that reckoned
Too bloodlessly, and once, when wild love beckoned,
Fled, leaving the perilous sweet sin untasted.

There's a heaven on earth—
A heaven that's mine—
In the gift of her heart
Whose love is divine.

There's a light in her eye,
That wins without art;
And there's grace in her step,
And joy in her heart.

When the heart blends with heart,
Confiding and true,
Then on earth there's a heaven,
With joys ever new.

While stars of Christmas shine,
Lighting the skies,
Let only loving looks,
Beam from our eyes.

While bells of Christmas ring,
Joyous and clear,
Speak only happy words,
All love and cheer.

Give only loving gifts,
And in love take;
Gladden the poor and sad
For love's dear sake.

Hope is like a harebell trembling from its birth,
Love is like a rose the joy of all the earth;
Faith is like a lily lifted high and white,
Love is like a lovely rose the world's delight;
Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth,
But the rose with all its thorns excels them both.

Matter,
with this look
I wed thee
and become
thy very
attribute.
I shall be
thy faithful
spouse,
true
to thy
nature,
for I love
thee
more than Durer
loved

If you love me, come and be
In my heart of hearts and see
How I think of naught but thee!

If you hate me, tell me so,
I should love you still, I know,—
Hate to love will sometimes grow.

If you neither love nor hate,
For your grace I ne'er will wait;
You will never be my fate!

Music has charms the savage breast to move,
And songs are Syrens that invite to love.

O DEARER to my thankful heart
Than all the circling sun surveys!
Thy presence only can impart
Light, peace, and gladness to my days.

Beneath thy soul-reviving ray,
Ev'n cold affliction's wintery gloom
Shall brighten into vernal day,
And hopes and joys immortal bloom.

Vain world, be gone with all thy toys;
I have no room for trifles here:
My heart aspires to nobler joys;
Thy fairest glories disappear.

Bright realms of bliss, where Jesus reigns,
My wish, my care, my hope invite:
Where raptur'd seraphs tune their strains

On my account, to grief a ceaseless prey,
Dost thou a sympathetic anguish prove?
I would not wish to live another day,
If my recovery did not charm my love:
For what were life, and health, and bloom to me,
Were they displeasing, beauteous youth! to thee?

Tranced in the glamour of a dream
Where banquet-lights and fancies gleam,
And ripest wit and wine abound,
And pledges hale go round and round,—
Lo, dazzled with enchanted rays—
As in the golden olden days
Sir Galahad—my eyes swim up
To greet your splendor, Loving Cup!

What is the secret of your art,
Linking together hand and heart
Your myriad votaries who do
Themselves most honor honoring you?
What gracious service have you done
To win the name that you have won?—
Kissing it back from tuneful lips
That sing your praise between the sips!