By L. Q. I.
From the Knickerbocker, Volume 49, 1857, pg. 342.
‘BUT THE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.’
’T IS said the Earth grows doting in her age,
And locket ever backward; that her heart
Out-poured its mother-tide on knight and sage,
Her first-born songs: and now, not all our art
Can win one love glance from her tear-blind eyes.
Come, KANE! and stand before her; let each scar
In glory now beneath the polar star
Proclaim the greatest hero ‘neath GOD’s skies!
And if she maunder still of victors dead,
Blood-stained, while thou art robed in Charity;
If crowning them she strip the laurel-tree,
And thee disowning, will not wreathe thy head:
Then, GOD of orphans! let this wanderer come
To share the crown and sun-light of THY home!