Immortality Poem by John Bowring

Round us, o'er us, is there aught
Which can fill our highest thought;
Aught which may deserve to be
With our noblest aims inwrought?
Yes! 'tis Immortality.


Is there, when the waters roll
Of affliction o'er our soul;
Is there aught whose energy
Can that rolling tide control?
Yes! 'tis Immortality.


Whither may the soul repair
When the blast of worldly care
Snaps the flower and blights the tree?
Where is comfort?-Tell me where,
But in Immortality!


Immortality shall cheer
All my path, however drear;
And its holy light shall be
Sunshine, blessed sunshine, here:
Welcome, Immortality!