96
POEMS.
Who, in the ever-varied page
Of trying woe or mirth,
Hath roused our better self to aid
The lowly ones of earth?
Of trying woe or mirth,
Hath roused our better self to aid
The lowly ones of earth?
Friend of the humble and the poor!
Oh! proud may England be,
'Mid princely wealth and high renown,
To boast of one like thee.
Oh! proud may England be,
'Mid princely wealth and high renown,
To boast of one like thee.
Ne'er shall the Christmas holly green
Our festal board entwine,
But 'twill recall, with deathless voice,
Each thrilling word of thine.
Our festal board entwine,
But 'twill recall, with deathless voice,
Each thrilling word of thine.
Ne'er shall we feel the winter blast,
Or hear the tempest wild,
But thy remembrance will invoke
Our aid for Sorrow's child.
Or hear the tempest wild,
But thy remembrance will invoke
Our aid for Sorrow's child.
Pass, then, upon thy proud career,
Still wider fame to seek;
Thy hand hath pointed out the tear
On Poverty's wan cheek.
Still wider fame to seek;
Thy hand hath pointed out the tear
On Poverty's wan cheek.
Shine ever from thy lofty height,
As doth a brilliant star;
Yet hast thou nobly sought and won
A brighter glory far.
As doth a brilliant star;
Yet hast thou nobly sought and won
A brighter glory far.
