The Meaning of Sorrow.
1 We love this outward world,
Its fair sky overhead,--
Its morning's soft, gray mist unfurled,
Its sunsets rich and red.
2 But there's a world within
That higher glory hath;
A life the immortal soul must win,--
The life of joy and faith.
3 For this the Father's love
Doth shade the world of sense,
The bounding play of health remove,
And dim the sparkling glance;
4 That, though the earth grows dull
And earthly pleasures few,
The spirit gain its wisdom full
To suffer and to do.
5 Holy its world within,
Unknown to sound or sight,--
The world of victory o'er sin,
Of faith, and love, and light.