'Tis well to have a goal in mind,
A life-aim, high and true;
Clear as the day, and well defined,
And ever kept in view.
But God has strewn along the way
Bright flowers of every hue.
Gather the brightest while you may,
For they were meant for you.
Heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth,
But if earth's joys be pure
They must have had a heavenly birth,
And bless while they endure;
So pluck the flower before it fades--
Drink from the purling stream;
Nor look for sorrow's darkening shades,
But for the morning gleam.
Life's burdens lose full half their weight
If gay our spirits be;
The rest beyond we antedate,
And serve, though ever free.
Our lamentations all will end,
Exchanged for smile and song,
And men will mark our upward trend
By joy-points all along.
The poet wrote, "no room for mirth;"
Much less for sigh and frown.
"A vale of tears" may be this earth--
'Tis so to every clown.
The desert blossoms as the rose,
And joy flows everywhere;
The star of hope in brightness glows,
No room for dark despair.
Before we reach God's heaven above,
Enjoy His heaven below;
And by the ministries of love
A Christlike nature show;
For he who lives a selfish life
Must lose the joy of this;
For highest good, vain is our strife,
If man share not our bliss.