English Statesman, Political Economist, Polyglot and Governor of Hong Kong
There is in every human heart some not completely barren part, where seeds of truth and love might grow, and flowers of generous virtue flow; to plant, to watch, to water there, this be our duty, be our care.
Chance and change are busy ever;
Man decays, and ages move;
But His mercy waneth never;
God is wisdom, God is love
Now the noon,
Wearied with sultry toil, declines and falls,
Into the mellow eve:--the west puts on
Her gorgeous beauties--palaces and halls,
And towers, all carv'd of the unstable cloud,
Welcome the calmly waning monarch--he
Sinks gently midst that glorious canopy
Down on his couch of rest--even like a proud
King of the Earth--the ocean.
Sleep is no servant of the will; it has caprices of its own; when courted most, it lingers still; when most pursued, 'tis swiftly gone.
The talents lost--the moments run
To waste--the sins of act, of thought,
Ten thousand deeds of folly done,
And countless virtues cherish'd not.
There is a land where everlasting suns
Shed everlasting brightness; where the soul
Drinks from the living streams of love that roll
By God's high throne! myriads of glorious ones
Bring their accepted offering. Oh! how blest
To look from this dark prison to that shrine,
To inhale one breath of Paradise divine,
And enter into that eternal rest
Which waits the sops of God.