Lines from a Letter to a young Clerical Friend

A STRENGTH Thy service cannot tire,

A faith which doubt can never dim,

A heart of love, a lip of fire,

O Freedom’s God! be Thou to him!

Speak through him words of power and fear,

As through Thy prophet bards of old,

And let a scornful people hear

Once more Thy Sinai-thunders rolled.

For lying lips Thy blessing seek,

And hands of blood are raised to Thee,

And on Thy children, crushed and weak,

The oppressor plants his kneeling knee.

Let then, O God! Thy servant dare

Thy truth in all its power to tell,

Unmask the priestly thieves, and tear

The Bible from the grasp of hell!

From hollow rite and narrow span

Of law and sect by Thee released,

Oh, teach him that the Christian man

Is holier than the Jewish priest.

Chase back the shadows, gray and old,

Of the dead ages, from his way,

And let his hopeful eyes behold

The dawn of Thy millennial day;

That day when fettered limb and mind

Shall know the truth which maketh free,

And he alone who loves his kind

Shall, childlike, claim the love of Thee!