By Eliza And Sarah Wolcott

Recorded in the book of life—blest name;
And blest the soul that feels another’s wo;
Who when the houseless stranger weary came,
Welcom’d his guest, a favor to bestow.
Blest soul! who wipes the tears from weeping eyes,
Who hastens to the widow’s lonely shade,
There mingling in the hapless orphan’s sighs,
Leads them to spring’s perennial fountain head.
There speak of all those mansions well prepar’d,
Where Jesus smiles and blesses all that mourn,
The father of the fatherless, the widow’s guard,
To comfort all the comfortless, and forlorn.
Blest soul! who visits oft the prisoner’s cell,
Who cheers that dark, that dreaded damp abode,
Where often pale and wan in chains they dwell,
Forgotten, lie beneath oppression’s load.
Blest soul! whose prayers and alms are freely given
To all affliction’s sons and daughters here;
Such incense bears a sweet perfume to heaven,
And angels lend a listening ear to hear.

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