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Daughters of light, who ne'er repine,
Though high your birth,
'Tis yours in humble life to shine
Like modest worth.


Arrayed in robes of heavenly hue
You come and go,
And drink the nectar of the dew,
Nor taste of woe.


Inspired, and yet inspiring still,
You seem to speak,
And prophesy to vale and hill
With faith that's meek.


'Tis yours a language pure to teach,
And share his heart
Who seeks on earth high aims to reach
Ere he depart.


And yours the whisper which, I trow,
I hear at eve,
And in the morning's roseate glow--
Hear and believe;


Believe the gospel of your lips
Spoken to man,
Nor heed the coming frost that nips
Each hope and plan.


For, if my life on earth be true,
I yet, on high,
Shall wear a glorious robe like you,
And never die.