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To heaven and heavenly joys:—when lo! a voice
 Came to me—Thou who pitiest thus the lost,
And fain wouldst hid the broken heart rejoice,
 Ere this great task thou takest, count the cost.
With untired patience canst thou sow the seed,
 Though thou thyself the harvest mayst not reap?
And when for sin thy inmost heart doth bleed,
 A meek, forgiving spirit, canst thou keep;
Witness the scene of cruelty and strife,
 With an unchanging faith and stedfast eye,
And pour o'er all the griefs and cares of life
 A Christian hope, and calm benignity;
Lead childhood's little footsteps, day by day,
 Unto the paths divine, and weary not;
And by the dying sinner bend to pray,
 In sympathy with even the outcast's lot?
Indifference canst thou meet, yet turn again,
 The long, the hopeless conflict to revive,
And think a soul renewed the noblest gain
 That time, with all his trophies, ere could give?
Canst thou thus labour, not by sight, but faith,
 And on the distant waters cast thy bread?
Canst thou be faithful even unto death;
 Unwavering, undismayed, unconquered?
Oh! not for me, I cried, this task divine,
 Which asks a Howard or a Romilly;