Classic Poem

While sorrows ebb and flow
On Life's gray strand,
To all oppressed by woe
I reach a hand.

The body's but a cell,
Its jailer he
Whose key from earth's dark spell
Shall set us free.

Stars, though unseen by day,
Still glow in wells,
Where truth's unwelcome ray
In exile dwells.

Like barks, wave-tossed till sore,
Upon the deep,
Within our souls a store
Of wealth we keep.

Then, brother, here's my hand,
Though void its palm,
Beside thee will I stand
Till God send balm;

Beside thee float, while hold
Two planks together,
Till melts His sun this cold
And wintry weather.

When that ray shines, we part,
But thou shalt stay;
Another sinking heart
Calls me away.

And should hope's dawning beams
To gems congeal,
Bright as the diamond stream
Of Maund reveal,

Swear that a brother's cry,
By sea or land,
Shall ever draw thee nigh
With helping hand.