O World that holds me by the wings,
How shall my soul escape your snares?
So dear are your delightful things,
So difficult your toils and cares:
That, every way my soul is held
By bonds of love, and bonds of hate;
With all its heavenly ardours quelled,
And all its angels desolate . . .
Yet in the heart of every child,
God and the world are reconciled! . . .