Of maniac dungeon’d in his double night;
Of woman overtasked and labour-worn;
Of homeless boy in streets with peril rife;
Of workman sickening in his airless den;
Of Indian parching for the streams of life,
Of Negro slave in bonds of cruel men;
O! Friend of all the friendless ‘neath the sun,
Whose hand hath wiped away a thousand tears,
Whose fervent lips and clear strong brain have done
God’s holy service, lo! these eighty years,—