But loves to anchor 'midst the truths he taught
As on a tide of love-a sea of holy thought.
Love coloured his existence; holy love,
Which Angels feel, and ransomed Saints above:
There his thoughts centred, thence his strains arose,
Nor till the end of Time shall round us close,
Will those sweet echoes of his spirit die,
But live, the music of Eternity!
In early days, the fiercer name bestowed
Marked that his soul had been a thunder-cloud,
When pride and passion forged their bolts of ire;
But grace, extinguishing the restless fire,
Could make his gentle mien, his placid face,
Attest the calm within. Blest work of grace!
Here pictured see it all:-Devotion, peace,
Meekness and musings high, and tenderness!
The thing that portrait seems, Believer! be,
And charm the world as that now pleases thee.
Henceforth may Wisdom guide the course of youth;
Not Passion sway thee, but the force of Truth;
Thy love, no longer fanciful, but just,
Make thee nor rudely judge, nor rashly trust:
Humble, not mean; though holy, not austere;
Active, yet calm, with conscience good and clear,
Live thou to draw men to the heavenly road,
Then die to reign with thy incarnate God!