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,—