Strange words for man! Through all we dream and do
We go down to the grave with hope denied;
Earth has her triumphs and her crown, but who
Was ever satisfied?
There are sweet fountains in the wilderness
And flowers by the loneliest wayside
And joys come often, yet the happiest
Are never satisfied.
What once the longing first interpreted?
What shoreless, soundless ocean, spreading wide
Rose clear and calm before his sight, who said
I shall be satisfied?
Before the thought our restlessness is stilled
As once again the veil is drawn aside
O land where every void, earth leaves is filled
And all are satisfied!
A heaven worth winning! though that land be fair
With beauty to our sight, and sense denied,
One thought surpasses all the visions--there
I shall be satisfied!
There are all shadows past, all secrets plain;
If not in vain I shall have lived and died,
If loss at last may turn to better gain
I shall be satisfied.
If I may drink and never thirst again,
And in that rest forever more abide;
If in thy likeness I awake--O then
I shall be satisfied.
