O what of our work and our lofty dreams?
Shall they vanish in vapid dust?
Shall influence die like the dried up streams?
Shall all that is gold turn to rust?
O where are the sunrays of yesteryear?
Have they shed their light all in vain?
They live in the growth of our teeming sphere;
In the fruit and the golden grain.
O where are the raindrops of days gone by?
Those benign and refreshing showers?
Their rainbows have hung in the murky sky;
They gave life to the fragrant flowers.
O where are the loves that we sought to show?
And the kindly deeds we have done?
They shine and abide as an afterglow
In the hearts of friends we have won.
Faint not, weary one, in your purpose true;
In your striving to reach the goal;
No value is lost under Heaven's blue:
In the secret depths of the soul!
The little brooks of the countryside,
are far from the rivers great and wide;
But softly flow through the meadows still,
and with quiet grace their tasks fulfill.