How meet it seems thy grand and vigorous age
Should find beyond man’s race fresh pangs to spare
And for the wrong’d and tortured brutes engage
In yet fresh labours and ungrudging care!
O tarry long amongst us! Live, we pray,
Hasten not yet to hear thy Lord’s “Well done!”
Let this world still seem better while it may
Contain one soul like thine amid its throng.
Whilst thou art here our inmost hearts confess,
Truth spake the kingly Seer of old who said—