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The
pure, the bright, the beautiful,
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The
dreams of love and truth;
The longing after something's lost,
The spirit's yearning cry,
The striving after better
hopes-
These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid;
A brother in his need,
A kindly
word in grief's dark hour
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens
nigh,
The sorrow of a contrite heart-
These things shall never die.
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