Robert Pollok

With one hand he put A penny in the urn of poverty, And with the other took a shilling out.

He was a man Who stole the livery of the court of Heaven To serve the Devil in.

And now her eyes grew bright, and brighter still, Too bright for ours to look upon, suffused With many tears, and closed without a cloud. They set as sets the morning star, which goes Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides Obscured …

'T was Slander filled her mouth with lying words, Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin.

He laid his hand upon "the Ocean's mane," And played familiar with his hoary locks.

He touched his harp, and nations heard, entranced, As some vast river of unfailing source, Rapid, exhaustless, deep, his numbers flowed And opened new fountains in the human heart.

Most wondrous book! bright candle of the Lord! Star of Eternity! The only star By which the bark of man could navigate The sea of life and gain the coast of bliss Securely.

Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy.