- `I go; the poor, My poor are with you still,
And ye may help them when and as ye will`
- Such was the legacy Incarnate Love
Bequeath'd His own before He soar'd above
- Not gold or jewels, but His poor to claim
Our succour for the sake of His dear name
- No weary burden, but a rich bequest,
Whereby who blesses is himself twice bless'd
- Is it not ours today? Are not the poor,
The hungry and the naked, at our door?
- And do not still the moans of anguish rise,
By day and night from sufferers to the skies?
- The wounded soul, the broken heart's distress;
Tears of the widow and the fatherless?
- And He, who gave Himself for all, has given
To us His servants of the balm of heaven
- None are so poor but have some love to shower
On poorer than themselves, and this is power
- This is the worship pure and undefiled
The father claims of every heaven-born child. Amen.