Words by a Lady. Music by G.W.C.
[Music]
Blest is the man whose tender heart
Feels all another's pain,
To whom the supplicating eye
Was never raised in vain,
Was never raised in vain.
Whose breast expands with generous warmth,
A stranger's woe to feel,
And bleeds in pity o'er the wound,
He wants the power to heal,
He wants the power to heal.
He spreads his kind supporting arms,
To every child of grief;
His secret bounty largely flows,
And brings unasked relief.
To gentle offices of love
His feet are never slow;
He views, through mercy's melting eye,
A brother in his foe.
To him protection shall be shown,
And mercy from above
Descend on those, who thus fulfil
The perfect law of love.
Oh! Charity!
Oh charity! thou heavenly grace,
All tender, soft, and kind,
A friend to all the human race,
To all that's good inclined.
The man of charity extends
To all his helping hand;
His kindred, neighbors, foes, and friends,
His pity may command.
The sick, the prisoner, deaf, and blind,
And all the sons of grief,
In him a benefactor find;
He loves to give relief.
'Tis love that makes religion sweet
'Tis love that makes us rise;
With willing minds, and ardent feet,
To yonder happy skies.