Classic Poem

Come, gentle folks, come, semple folks,
Of high and low degree,
And listen to our joyous song,
And view our merry glee:
For vice and want have fled away,
While virtue marches on,
And joyous are our grateful hearts,
That vice and want are gone.

By you our infant minds are taught,
Our infant hands are trained
To practise useful arts, by which
An honest living's gained.
And oh, how sweet the coarsest fare,
By honest labour won!
And oh, how dear the humblest home
That we can call our own!

Your gen'rous efforts God will speed
To help us on our way;
From us our mothers learn to read,
Our fathers learn to pray.
And 'mid the dark and gloomy dens
Of poverty's abode,
Each ragged child inspired becomes
A minister of God.

Then give us all your sympathies,
And lend us all your aid;
Be sure a present sacrifice
Shall amply be repaid.
By you the breach is closed between
The humble and the high,
And, warmed by love, the earth becomes
A transcript of the sky.