Classic Poem

A faith, a prayer, it cometh oft
From aged lips, while on the soft,
Waved hair of youth, that rev'rent stands,
Are placed the hands.

Love's fervent wish, it falleth warm
From trembling lips — true Christian charm!
Uttered when near, if distant, then
By speech of pen.

It glistens bright on history's scroll,
A phrase of light! making the soul
Of the far past give utterance true,
Heathen and Jew.

Not obsolete! It floweth still
From life's full spring — perennial rill,
That murmurs soft where'er we plod,
Of love and God.