The Present

The present, only, is ours;
We cannot recall the past
Song’s and sunshine and flowers,
Are pleasant, but do they last?

The dollar we earn to-day,
Is more than a million spent;
The one has vanished away,
The other may bring content.

A loving word, like the dew
To the rose, revives the heart.
A blessing awaits the true;
Feeling is higher than art.

The present improved is bliss,
The bliss that fore’er abides;
In a fairer world than this,
Where never an ill betides.