Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.
Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.
The soul's calm sunshine and the heartfelt joy.
Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,health, peace, and competence.
You purchase pain with all that joy can give, And die of nothing but a rage to live.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories