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 aidA friend in his need,A kindly word in grief s dark hourThat 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.

Let nothing pass for every handMust find some work to do ;Lose not a chance to waken loveBe firm, and just ,and true;So shall a light that cannot fadeBeam on thee from on high.

And angel voices say to theeThese things shall never die.

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