NOBLE DEEDS.
He built a house, time laid it in the dust;
He wrote a book, its title now forgot;
He ruled a city, but his name is not
On any tablet graven, or where rust
Can gather from disuse, or marble bust.
He took a child from out a wretched cot,
Who on the state dishonor might have brought,
And reared him to the Christian's hope and trust.
The boy to manhood grown, became a light
To many souls, preached for human need
The wondrous love of the Omnipotent.
The work has multiplied like stars at night
When darkness deepens; every noble deed
Lasts longer, than a granite monument.
—Sarah H. Bolton.
451
"He wishes well" is worthless, unless the deed go with it.
—Plautus.
452
Deformed.—Mock not at those who are misshapen by nature. He that despiseth them despiseth God that made them.
—Dr. Fuller.