Thy highest priests should ministering throng
With silken robe, with gold and precious stones,
With solemn chant and loud triumphant song:
What beauty that the world could give would be
Too beautiful for Thee?
And yet to those that work with grimy hands
And sweaty brows in ditches and in drains,
Thou comest with a love that understands
Their labor ill-requitted, and their pains.
Who knows so well as Thou what they endure,