THINK, O Heart, what sweet—had you waited
A moment, on such a day—
Had yet been to do or to say
That shall never be said now or done!
Think what beautiful worlds uncreated
The clouds then bore back to the sun;
What blisses were all frustrated;
What loves, that were almost begun!
Think, O Life,—had your stream but drifted
To this or that holier Past,
Or Future that must come at last—
Think, O sorrowful Life, and repent—
How the sorrowful days had been gifted
With solace and ravishment,
And year after year slowly lifted