IN all this world you are to me
A flower, serene, alone;
A sight kind heaven lets me see
When I am deep in misery,
And hope of joy near flown.
You, like a bloom when woods are grey,
Arresting soul and mind,
With beauty bidding me to stay,
And worship you with prayer and lay,
And ease for sorrow find.
Oh, flower of perfect loveliness,
Oh, bloom of spring’s fair day,
What gentle joys do you impress
Upon my soul, with happiness
Which sweeps the clouds away!