PERSEVERE.
Salt of the earth, ye virtuous few
Who season human kind!
Light of the world, whose cheering ray
Illumes the realms of mind!
Where misery spreads her deepest shade,
Your strong compassion glows;
From your blest lips the balm distils
That softens mortal woes.
Proceed: your race of glory run,
Your virtuous toils endure;
You come, commissioned from on high,
And your reward is sure.
Mrs. Barbauld.