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A memorial volume of sacred poetry

by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring

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The Greatest of all is Charity.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Greatest of all is Charity.

When first the Almighty Father's thought
Created man,—how wondrously
His virtue-giving spirit wrought
The mystic cords of Charity.

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To live for others, and to know
No single, separate interests here;
To feel,—to soothe a brother's woe,
A brother's bliss to seek,—to share.
To scatter happiness o'er all—
To counsel,—pity,—or relieve:
To raise the weary-weak who fall,
And liberal, to lend,—to give.—
Such is the purpose, such the plan
For which our talents here were given;
For God created man for man;—
And earth would be as blest as heaven.
If such a heavenly fruit as this
Spread through the world its generous seed;
Then,—even woe itself were bliss—
And bliss would then be—bliss indeed.