Classic Poem

As when the fainting traveller meets upon the desert sands
With one whose stranger heart is kind and his need understands,
Though lips all parched may not express the thirsty traveller's joy,
Yet beams the gratitude he feels forth from his speaking eye.

So I to thee can scarce describe, in simple rhymes like mine,
The grateful fount within my soul which welleth up to thine;
Yet I will strive to look my joy by living as he taught
Whose volumes of divinest lore thou to my view hast brought.

Long have I sighed to ponder o'er the pages of the sage
Whose revelations give to youth the wisdom of old age;
Who teaches that enjoyment may , yet never must be ours,
But " Duty! " is the rallying cry which calls to use our powers.

Not for our selfish joy alone the paths of earth we tread;
But while the angels guard our steps, God watching overhead,
We are to seek man's highest good by usefulness and love,
Assured that all who labor here have sweeter rest above.

What if our paths sometimes are strewn with thorns so sharp and hard,
We almost cease to hope for paths along Asmooth green sward!
God's eye is on us; and his love, his providence divine,
Is polishing our spirits then, that we as gems may shine

In that fair land of use and love, of peace and pure delight,
Which burst upon the northern seer's enraptured spirit's sight:
There shall the sufferer for truth be crowned with fadeless joy,
And in the works his heart hath loved find evermore employ.

To thee, O God! our spirit's guide to all sublime and pure,
Be rendered praise for giving man such lofty, wondrous lore,
His heart to strengthen, soul to cheer, along Life's pilgrim way,
And ope to him, in sorrow's night, some glimpses of the day.

Then next to thee, kind friend, my thanks forever shall be given,
Since thou hast helped me thus to draw yet nearer to that heaven.
Where through the circling ages may thy ransomed spirit dwell,
And I be gifted then with power my gratitude to tell!

God bless thee, guide thee, crown thee his, when mortal life is o'er,
And give us blissful meetings oft upon the shining shore,
Where with angelic wisdom we his providence may see,
My footsteps from an island shore directing here to thee.