Charity Never Faileth

THE sparkling eye that ruled the heartHath lost its magic beam,And in the socket, heavily,Like warning lamp doth gleam.

The wearied ear remits its toil,Rejects the music-strain,And with the folly of the worldNo longer loads the brain.

The hand that with untiring deedsDid mark the days of old,Now trembleth in its feeble graspThe water-cup to hold.

The foot no more o'er hill and daleDoth keep its vigorous way,But on the cushioned sofa rests,A prisoner day by day.

Even Memory, with a wrinkled brow,Is faltering o'er the page,On which she registered her gainsFrom infancy to age.

And Fancy faileth in her skillO'er fairy-land to soar,And sadly folds a broken wingTo ride the blast no more.

But the sweet spirit's love to man,In God its fearless trust,Its zeal to keep a Savior's lawThese fade not into dust

These perish not with time-but grow,Like beaten gold, more bright,The deathless children of the skiesThat heavenward take their flight.