Classic Poem

Daring as the noon-tide ray
On the summer's longest day,
Is the truth of Christ supreme;
Proving at its sacred touch,
Whether Ophir's gold be such,
Or a shift to seem.

Joses, who can doubt thee now,
Who will not thy faith allow,
With thy lands, for Christ, at sale?
By foul lucre undefil'd,
In the spirit Jesus' child,
Son of comfort, hail!

For a substance to endure
Hast thou listed with the poor,
Triumph o'er thyself atchiev'd—
Thee thy Saviour God inrolls
In the calendar of souls,
Sainted and receiv'd.

Heroes of the Christian cause,
Candidates for God's applause,
—Leaving all for Christ his sake;
Scorning temporal reward,
Ready to confess the Lord
At the cross or stake.

Shew your everlasting store
To one great believer more,
And your ghostly gifts impart—
Grutching treasures for the moth,
To the Lord he pledg'd his troth,
And ally'd his heart.

Hence instructed, let us learn
Heav'n and heav'nly things to earn,
And with want by pray'r to cope;
To the Lord your wealth resign,
Destribution is divine,
Misers have no hope.