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When hours flow dully on in life,
I bid some cheerful neighbor come,
And than mine own bohemian wife
Gives him sweet welcome to our home;
The smiles that on her visage shine
Are all reflected back from mine.
The morning of a summer day,
Breaks forth in sweet serenity:
And fair as roses are, and gay,
The lovely world appears to me.
'Tis by men's eye that world is clad
In cheerful light, or darkness sad.
I love mankind—I love them well—
Wise—foolish—weeds—flowers—gloom and mirth,
Earth is to me—nor heaven nor hell—
It is—what is it? simply—earth;
Poor thoughtless wretch, by folly driven,
Who calls his earth—or hell, or heaven.
