Theory never can equal demonstration.
"O Thou! at whose rebuke the grave
Back to warm life its sleeper gave:
Beneath whose sad and tearful glance
The cold and changed countenance
Broke the still horror of its trance.
And, waking, saw with joy above,
A brother's face, of tenderest love:
Thou, unto whom the blind and lame,
The sorrowing and the sin-sick came,
And from thy very garment's hem
Drew life and healing unto them;
The burden of thy holy faith
Was love and life, not hate and death;
Man's demon ministers of pain.
The fiends of his revenge were sent
From thy pure Gospel's element
To their dark home again.
Thy name is Love!
O, once again thy healing lay
On the blind eyes which know thee not,
And let the light of thy pure day
Melt in upon man's darkened thought."
