Page:The Easter Gift.pdf/71



ever in the human heart A fitting season there can be, Worthy of its immortal part, Worthy, O blessed Lord, of thee;

'Tis in that yet unsullied hour, Or ere the world has claimed its own; Pure as the hues within the flower, To summer and the sun unknown;

When still the youthful spirit bears The image of its God within, And uneffaced that beauty wears, So soon to be destroyed by sin.