From: The Dial, Vol. III, No. II (Oct. 1842)
Author:
Published:
THERE is a vale which none hath seen, There every virtue has its birth, There love is warm, and youth is young, And ever, if you hearken well,
Where foot of man has never been,
Such as here lives with toil and strife
An anxious and a sinful life.
Ere it descends upon the earth,
And thither every deed returns,
Which in the generous bosom burns.
And simple truth on every tongue,
For Virtue still adventures there,
And freely breathes her native air.
You still may hear its vesper bell,
And tread of high-souled men go by,
Their thoughts conversing with the sky.
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