  The present, only, is ours; We cannot recall the past Song’s and sunshine and flowers, Are pleasant, but do they last? The dollar we earn to-day, Is more than a million spent; The one has vanished away, The other may bring content. A loving word, like the dew To the rose, revives the heart. A blessing awaits the true; Feeling is higher than art. The present improved is bliss, The bliss that fore’er abides; In a fairer world than this, Where never an ill betides. |
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