To leave unseen so many a glorious sight,
To leave so many lands unvisited,
To leave so many worthiest books unread,
Unrealized so many visions bright;—
Oh! wretched yet inevitable spite
Of our short span, and we must yield our breath,
And wrap us in the lazy coil of death,
So much remaining of unproved delight.
But hush, my soul, and, vain regrets, be stilled
Find rest in Him who is the complement
Of whatsoe’er transcends your mortal doom,
Of broken hope and frustrated intent;
In the clear vision and aspèct of whom
All wishes and all longings are fulfilled.