Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Ar07900
'' 'Tis vain , " the Angel Keeper cried , " ' tis vain ; Thou must return ' and dwell on earth again ; One feather more thy ample wings must wear , Ere they will bear thee through this ambient air : Good as thou art , go back to human dust ; Man to be godlike mustbe morejthan just . "
the humbled Spirit took its downward way , And here resumed its working garb of clay ; For threescore years ancl ten it stemmed Life ' s tide , And breathed and thought—the trying and the tried Still was he honest , still he loved the best The ones who claimed the kindness in his breast , Still was he trusted as the type of truth , The moral oracle of age ancl youth .
His love began with mother , wife , child , friend ; But there he found Affection must not end . His gentle sympathy now turned to heed The stranger ' s sorrow , and the stranger ' s need ; With right good will he ever sought to dry The tear that dimmed the lonely orphan ' s eye ; He gave his Pity , and bestowed his Gold Where Want abided with the Poor ancl Old ; He burst the bonds of Duty ' s narrow thrall , His soul grew wider—ancl he felt for all .
The rich man died—again his spirit flew On through the broad , Elysian fields of blue ; Higher—still higher—till he saw once more , The crystal arch he failed to reach before : And trembling there , he feared to task his might , To travel further in the realms of light .
" Fear not , " the Angel Warder cried , " I see The plume that now will waft thee on to me , Thy wings have now the feather that alone Lifts the created to the Maker ' s throne . 'Tis Mercy—bounteous Mercy—warm and wide , That brings the mortal to the Maker ' s side , 'Tis dove-eyed Mercy deifies the dust ; Man to he godlike must be more than just .
Up to thy place . " The Spirit soon obeyed The Angel ' s word—a tone of music played In melting murmurs round the fields of blue , As cherubs came to lead the Spirit through . The chrystal portal opened at the strain , The Spirit passed—the Angel watched again , Still crying to the short-winged sons of dust , " Man to be godlike must be more than just . "
Ye , —willing workers m a sacred band , Among the noblest in our noble land ; Ye , gladly build , in Charity ' s blest name ; The Christian altars raised to England ' s fame : Altais that serve to break the storms that rage In fearful gloom round Poverty and Age .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Ar07900
'' 'Tis vain , " the Angel Keeper cried , " ' tis vain ; Thou must return ' and dwell on earth again ; One feather more thy ample wings must wear , Ere they will bear thee through this ambient air : Good as thou art , go back to human dust ; Man to be godlike mustbe morejthan just . "
the humbled Spirit took its downward way , And here resumed its working garb of clay ; For threescore years ancl ten it stemmed Life ' s tide , And breathed and thought—the trying and the tried Still was he honest , still he loved the best The ones who claimed the kindness in his breast , Still was he trusted as the type of truth , The moral oracle of age ancl youth .
His love began with mother , wife , child , friend ; But there he found Affection must not end . His gentle sympathy now turned to heed The stranger ' s sorrow , and the stranger ' s need ; With right good will he ever sought to dry The tear that dimmed the lonely orphan ' s eye ; He gave his Pity , and bestowed his Gold Where Want abided with the Poor ancl Old ; He burst the bonds of Duty ' s narrow thrall , His soul grew wider—ancl he felt for all .
The rich man died—again his spirit flew On through the broad , Elysian fields of blue ; Higher—still higher—till he saw once more , The crystal arch he failed to reach before : And trembling there , he feared to task his might , To travel further in the realms of light .
" Fear not , " the Angel Warder cried , " I see The plume that now will waft thee on to me , Thy wings have now the feather that alone Lifts the created to the Maker ' s throne . 'Tis Mercy—bounteous Mercy—warm and wide , That brings the mortal to the Maker ' s side , 'Tis dove-eyed Mercy deifies the dust ; Man to he godlike must be more than just .
Up to thy place . " The Spirit soon obeyed The Angel ' s word—a tone of music played In melting murmurs round the fields of blue , As cherubs came to lead the Spirit through . The chrystal portal opened at the strain , The Spirit passed—the Angel watched again , Still crying to the short-winged sons of dust , " Man to be godlike must be more than just . "
Ye , —willing workers m a sacred band , Among the noblest in our noble land ; Ye , gladly build , in Charity ' s blest name ; The Christian altars raised to England ' s fame : Altais that serve to break the storms that rage In fearful gloom round Poverty and Age .