IF sin be in the heart,

The fairest sky is foul, and sad the summer weather, 

The eye no longer sees the lambs at play together, 

The dull ear cannot hear the birds that sing so sweetly,

And all the joy of God's good earth is gone completely, 

If sin be in the heart.

If peace be in the heart,

The wildest winter storm is full of solemn beauty, 

The midnight lightning-flash but shows the path of duty,

Each living creature tells some new and joyous story, 

The very trees and stones all catch a ray of glory,

If peace be in the heart. 



SRING is growing up; is it not a pity?

She was such a little thing, and so very pretty! 

Summer is extremely grand; we must pay her duty

But it is to little Spring that she owes her beauty.

Spring is growing up, leaving us so lonely!

In the place of little Spring we have Summer only; 

Summer, with her lofty airs and her stately paces,

In the place of little Spring, with her childish graces.