On the highest hills
Lies the whitest snow;
In the smallest rills
Clearest waters flow;
In the loneliest dells
Are the fairest bowers;
Sweetest perfume dwells
In the meekest flowers.
Much may you and I
Learn, dear friend, from this;
We must seek on high
For the purest bliss;
And must tread the earth
With an humble mind,
If we much of worth
Would desire to find.
