158 158 A New Divorce 159 159 The Vision 160 160 p. 9The Grand Old Man of Oakworth. p. 9 Come, hand me down that rustic harp, From off that rugged wall, For I must sing another song To suit the Muse’s call, For she is bent to sing a pœan, On this eventful year, In praise of the philanthropist Whom all his friends hold dear— The Grand Old Man of Oakworth, Beyond his eightieth year! No flattery! My honest Muse, Nor yet be thou servile; But tinkle up that harp again, A moment to beguile. Altho’ the bard be rude and rough, Yet, he is ever proud To do the mite that he can do, And thus proclaim aloud— The Grand Old Man of Oakworth, Of whom we all are proud! For base indeed were any bard That ever sang on earth, Did he not wish his neighbour well, And praise his sterling worth. p. 10Leave state affairs and office To those of younger blood, But I am with the patriot, The noble, wise, and good— The Grand Old Man of Oakworth, The wise, the great, the good! p. 10 This worthy old philanthropist, Whom all his neighbours greet; Who has a smile for every one Whom he may chance to meet— Go to yon pleasant village, On the margin of the moor, And you will hear his praises sung By all the aged poor— The Grand Old Man of Oakworth, A friend unto the poor!
Prev.
Back
Top