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In pleasant places to the rich, of thine own soul have care !
See that thou miss not the bright crown of glory only worn
By those who first the bitter cross of sacrifice have borne.
Oppressed with solitude and want, behold thy brother stand,
Feeding with zeal the humble flock committed to his hand !
Possessed, it may be, of a mind as richly stored as thine,
Gifted with kindling eloquence, where thought and grace
combine.
That well might challenge the applause of audience more fit,
And draw admiring crowds to praise his wisdom and his
wit :
Yet, prompt to do his Master's will, he asks of man no meed −
Of such a stimulus to toil hast thou as little need ?
Boldly against a nation's sin thou dost not spare to cry ;
'Tis well ! God help thee ! lift thy voice in trumpet tones
on high.
Until our land repent her crimes ! — and yet who will not
own
'Tis easier far such war to wage where thousands shout,
"well done !"
