Sometimes when I am all alone,
  Away from noise and strife,
The many faults and weaknesses,
  That rule my daily life
Seem to die out. And as I sit
  From worldiness apart,
All that is good and pure obtains
  The mastery of my heart.

And then my soul turns heavenward,
  And I commune with God.
I long to tread the narrow path
  That Christ before me trod.
I long to see his precious face--
  To go where angels go,
To leave the fleeting, fading things
  That make up life below.

My soul expands with ecstacy,
  My heart grows brave, and strong,
To meet whatever lies ahead--
  To battle down the wrong.
No sorrow can affright my soul,
  No earthly ill, I fear,
While in that blessed trance I sit
  And feel that God is near.

And then I mingle with the world,
  And falter day by day.
Until at last I walk within
  The olden, sinful way.
O, shall I even grow in grace,
  O shall I ever be,
Ready to meet the judgment day--
  Fit for eternity?

Shells by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Milwaukee: Hauser & Storey, 1873.

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