The pure, the bright, the
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The streams of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning cry,
The striving after better hopes --These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aidA brother in his need;
A kindly word in grief's dark
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high,
The sorrow of a contrite heart --These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every
Must find some work to do,
Lost not a chance to waken love,
Be firm and just and true.
So shall a light that cannot
Beam on thee from on high,
And angel voices say to thee --"These things shall never die."Charles Dickens
