Too great and white the harvest yet,
To spare him here below.
O! "why this waste?"—forgive me, Lord,
I would not Judas be;
Yet who will plead as he has plead,
For Freedmen and for me?
Perhaps, ah, yes! I know he will—
This sleeping Prince of Thine,
In many a multitude be heard,
Yet plead for right and mine.