English Statesman, Political Economist, Polyglot and Governor of Hong Kong
"He that studies to know duty, and labors in all things to do it, will have two heavens - one of joy, peace and comfort on earth, and the other of glory and happiness beyond the grave."
"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."
"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."
"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."
"FROM the recesses of a lowly spirit My humble prayer ascends: O Father! hear it. Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness, Forgive its weakness. I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy The trembling sacrifice I pour before thee; What can I offer in thy presence holy, But sin and folly? For in thy sight, who every bosom viewest, Cold are our warmest vows and vain our truest; Thoughts of a hurrying hour; our lips repeat them, Our hearts forget them. We see thy hand—it leads us, it supports us; We hear thy voice—it counsels and it courts us; And then we turn away—and still thy kindness Pardons our blindness. And still thy rain descends, thy sun is glowing, Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing, And, as if man were some deserving creature, Joys cover nature. 20 Oh how long-suffering, Lord! but thou delightest To win with love the wandering; thou invitest By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors, Man from his errors. Who can resist thy gentle call, appealing To every generous thought and grateful feeling? That voice paternal whispering, watching ever, My bosom?—never. Father and Saviour! plant within that bosom These seeds of holiness; and bid them blossom In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal, And spring eternal. Then place them in those everlasting gardens Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens; Where every flower that creeps through death’s dark portal Becomes immortal."
"Chance and change are busy ever; Man decays, and ages move; But His mercy waneth never; God is wisdom, God is love"
"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."