FOUNDER OF THE ORPHAN ASYLUM, BRISTOL .

I SAW him when his life had turn'd
 Into its autumn day;
And on his brow the clustering hair
 Was changing into grey.
A noble man, with noble mien,
 And such a trustful grace;
Methought I saw a holy light
 Which shone upon his face.

How great the faith by which he lives!
 O that such faith were mine!
He seems to reach his hand on high,
 And grasp the arm Divine.
I cannot hope, as on I go
 Across this world of pain,
To meet among the sons of men
 A faith like his again.

And, far off from my own fireside,
 How did my heart rejoice,
When sitting where he often preach'd,
 To hear his faithful voice!
He magnified the Saviour's name,
 More dear His love than gold;
His meek eye led me oft to think
 Upon the seers of old.

Great is the power of such an one
 To aid Jehovah's right,
And hasten on the peaceful time
 When earth shall bathe in light,
And spears are into sickles turn'd,
 To reap the fruitful mead:
His life is one great homily
 To shame the sceptic's creed.

And when I saw the orphan ones
 By hundreds clothed and fed,
Who else perhaps would homeless be,
 And steal for lack of bread,
Now taught to read, and write, and work,
 So cheerful, good, and wise;
I thank'd the Lord for such a man,
 And tears came in my eyes.

How wonderful the mighty deeds
 Which he by faith has done,
Which shall go on to bless mankind,
 Till darkness shrouds the sun!
His memory will for ever live
 Among earth's precious things,
And Muller's name henceforth be rank'd
 With heroes, bards, and kings.