The sweetest songs are left unsung,

The sweetest themes unread,

The sweetest chords are left unstrung,

The sweetest words unsaid.

How strange it is, and yet how true,

Surpassing mortal ken,

We still can catch a blessed view

Of thought and times and men.

Though brightest paths remain unknown,

And few the heights we tread,

Though we must struggle on alone

With deepest tears unshed;

Although our hearts are anguish wrung

And ev'ry effort pain,

If we can keep another young,

We have not lived in vain.

'Tis said the fairest buds decay;

Perhaps they do, and yet,

Upon the darkest, dullest way

How many flowers are met.

The happy hours so quickly flee

We sigh to see them go,

When out upon life's troubled sea

The moments move so slow.

Shall sweetest songs be left unsung?

The sweetest themes unread?

The sweetest chords be left unstrung?

The sweetest words unsaid?

When we have but to do our best,

The very best we can,

To have the future richly blest

Of God and truth and man.