Dives relents and Lazarus is fed.
Mirth makes a laugh where sorrow made a sigh,
Heart wakes to heart—the Seraphim are nigh.
“Good will and peace,” the song is on the air,
“Good will and peace,” I hear it everywhere—
“Peace on the earth,” in purposes divine,
“Good will to men”—and a good will to mine.
Oh, friend unseen, no gift is in my power;
Gold would be dross in this triumphant hour.
Take, then, the strain the angels sing to me,