This World is Full of Beauty

There lives a voice within me, a guest-angel of my
heart,
And its sweet lispings win me, till the tears a-trem-
bling start;

Up evermore it springeth, like some magic melody,
And evermore it singeth this sweet song of songs to
me —
This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;
And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

Night's starry tendernesses dower with glory ever-
more,
Morn's budding, bright, melodious hour comes sweetly
as of yore;

But there be million hearts accurst, where no sweet
sunbursts shine,
And there be million hearts athirst for Love's in-
mortal wine.

This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;

And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

If faith, and hope, and kindness pass'd, as coin, 'twixt
heart and heart,
How, thro' the eye's tear-blindness, should the sudden
soul upstart!

The dreary, dim, and desolate, should wear a sunny
bloom,
And Love should spring from buried Hate, like
flowers o'er Winter's tomb.

This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;
And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

Were truth our uttered language, Angels might talk
with men,
And God-illumined earth should see the Golden Age
again;
The burthen'd heart should soar in mirth like Morn's
young prophet- lark,
And Misery's last tear wept on earth, quench Hell's
last cunning spark.
For this world is full of beauty, as other worlds
above;
And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

Lo! plenty ripens round us, yet awakes the cry for
bread,
The millions still are toiling, crusht, and clad in rags,
unfed!

While sunny hills and valleys richly blush with fruit
and grain,
But the paupers in the palace rob their toiling fellow-
men.

This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;

And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

Dear God! what hosts are trampled 'mid this killing
crush for gold!
What noble hearts are sapp'd of love! what spirits
lose life's hold!

Yet a merry world it might be, opulent for all, and
aye,
With its lands that ask for labour, and its wealth that
wastes away.

This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;
And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.

The leaf-tongues of the forest, and the flow'r-lips of
the sod —
The happy Birds that hymn their raptures in the ear
of God—
The summer wind that bringeth music over land and
sea,
Have each a voice that singeth this sweet song of
songs to me —
This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above;
And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love.