‘TIS sweet to learn the happy art 

Of culling, from each bitter smart,

The gems of hallowed pleasure; 

For, though long hidden from our eyes, 

Within our rugged grief oft lies

A wealth of diamond treasure.

And if we cut with skillful care 

The mold that hides the jewel rare,

Soon will its dazzling beauty 

Flash brightly on our raptured sight, 

With crystal rays of living light

Illuming the path of duty.

We climb the cliffs that we may eat 

The grapes that hang in clusters sweet,

Along the rocks eternal; 

And gaze, with more than rapture, through 

The diamond-sprinkled arch of blue,

Into the land supernal.

We wander through earth's tangling maze, 

'Mong sunken snares and slippery ways,

That in our grief's completeness, 

Our heavenly Guide may nearer come, 

Changing the wild to Eden's bloom,

With love's enchanting sweetness.

So, when the briars pierce our feet, 

We'll say, "There must be roses sweet,

Just here, worth our possessing," 

And spend no more the grief-stung hours 

In murmuring, but in search for flowers,

Twined with celestial blessing.