That richer than the wealth of worlds that hallowed gold will be,
Those sacred odours fragrance breathe through all eternity?
But now the Saviour sits enthroned above the Seraphim;
When all creation owns his sway, and angels worship Him,
Can our poor gifts acceptance find before His glorious throne?
The earth is His and all therein, not e’en our lives our own.
Lo! here the “Man of sorrows” representatives hath left,
The sick, the prisoners, the poor, of all but hope bereft;
Aid to “the least of these His brethren” to the Lord is given,
Off’rings of love to those He loves, He will accept in Heaven.