This world is all a fleeting show,

  For man's illusion given;

The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,

Deceitful shine, deceitful flow—

  There's nothing true but Heaven!

And false the light on glory's plume,

  As fading hues of even;

And love and hope, and beauty's bloom,

Are blossoms gathered for the tomb—

  There's nothing bright but Heaven!

Poor wanderers of a stormy day,

  From wave to wave we're driven,

And fancy's flash and reason's ray

Serve but to light the troubled way—

  There's nothing calm but Heaven!