See friends and kindred crowd around; I hail the blessed light.
With grateful heart, with heaving breast, with feelings flowing o’er,
I cried, “O lead me quick to him who can the sight restore!”
To kneel I tried, but he forbade; and, forcing me to rise,
“To mortal man bend not the knee;” then pointing to the skies:—
“I’m but,” said he, “the workman’s tool; another’s is the hand;
Before his might, and in his sight, men, feeble, helpless, stand:
Go, virtue learn to cultivate, and never thou forget
That for some work of future good thy life is spared thee yet!”
The off’ring, token of my thanks, he refused; nor would he take