Classic Poem

How beautiful the sight
Of brethren, who agree
In friendship to unite,
And bands of charity!
'Tis like the precious ointment shed,
In sacred rite on Aaron's head.

'Tis like the dews, that fill
The cups of Hermon's flow'rs;
Or Zion's fruitful hill,
Bright with the drops of showr's, —
Where mingling odors breathe around,
And notes of grateful joy resound.

For there the Lord commands
Blessings, in boundless store;
From his unsparing hands —
E'en life for ever more:
Thrice happy they, who meet above,
To spend eternity in love.