Classic Poem

Blessed are those who have not seen,
And who have yet believed;
The witness, here that has not been,
From heaven they have received.

Blessed are those who have not known
The things that stand before them,
And for a vision of their own
Can piously ignore them.

So let me think, whate'er befall,
That in the city duly,
Some men there are who love at all,
Some women who love truly;

And that upon two million odd
Transgressors in sad plenty,
Mercy will of a gracious God
Be shown — because of twenty.