Ah! blest those years of youthful hope,
When every breeze was Zephyr, every morning May!
Then as we bravely climbed the slope
Of life’s steep mount, we gained a wider scope
At every stair, and could with joy survey
The track beneath us, and the upward way;
Both lay in light—round both the breath of love
Fragrant and warm from Heaven’s own tropic blew;
Beside us what glad comrades smiled and strove!
Beyond us what dim visions rose to view!
With thee, dear Master! through that morning land
We journeyed happy: thine the guiding hand,
Thine the far-looking eye, the dauntless smile;
Thy lofty song of hope did the long march beguile.