Today I watched the bubbles,
 That floated through the sky.
So gentle and so graceful,
 Their colors floated by.

 
An infant’s hand had blown them;
 A darling little boy;
So light at heart and cheerful,
 He found a moment’s joy.

So like the world’s brief pleasures,
 They won’t remain in hand.
They linger but a moment,
 And pop if e’er they land.
 

When all is still and quiet,
 No trouble in the air,
For just a little longer,
 Perhaps they’ll linger there.
 

Perhaps they’ll give some pleasure;
 Perhaps they’ll catch your eye,
And grant a brief diversion,
 Like bubbles in the sky.
 

But there is nothing in them
 To satisfy the heart.
As quick as they’re inflated;
 So quickly they depart.
 

There is a truer substance,
 Not seen with carnal eyes;
But faith has eyes to see it,
 And hands to grasp the prize.
 

Not like the bubbles, flashing,
 To only disappear,
Its hope is long enduring;
 Its joy, eternal cheer.
 

It is the hope of heaven,
 Which God for us has made;
Not blown for just a moment;
 Its joys will never fade.