SOME CHARACTERS I MUCH ADORE.

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An honest man with noble mind,
With heart sincere, true, and refined,
Who lives for God and all mankind,
Who cares for rich and poor,
And opens wide his soul to see
The sweet designs of Deity,
Yet from all prejudice is free,
Is character I much adore.
The man who all his rights will claim,
But gives another just the same,
And shares with equity the blame
Of faults done long before,
Who will not shrink when sorely tried.
But firmly by the truth abide,
E'en when his own faults are allied,
Is character I much adore.
A man who will not plead a cause
That violates the nation's laws,
Or seek to give Justice a pause,
For gold or worldly store,
But Pallas-like will e'er defend,
Alike for foe, or trusted friend,
The rights on which morals depend,
Is character I much adore.
A man who rises by his worth
And not through fortune-favored birth,
Who owns himself, though all the earth
May bribes around him pour,
Who wears distinction's jeweled crown,
But not from trampling others down,
Or acts that cause Justice to frown,
Is character I much adore.
The teacher who sees soul and mind
In pleasing harmony combined
Within the clay to be refined,
And scans it o'er and o'er,
That through instruction, skill, and love,
It may expand and so improve,
To honor earth and heaven above,
Is character I much adore.
The man of God who feels no loss
To bear the burden of the cross
Though waves of fury round him toss,
That sometimes hide the shore;
Who guides alike the rich and poor
Toward Him who said, "I am the Door,"
And bids them come though sick and sore,
Is character I much adore.
The man who fills a humble lot
As best he can, and murmurs not
At what he has, or has not got,
But uses all his power
To elevate his work and life,
And knows no mean ignoble strife,
With which the world is too much rife,
Is character I much adore.
A faithful wife bent low in prayer
O'er suffering one in wild despair,
While tender hands relief prepare
Upon th' uncovered floor
Of him who cursed her life by drink
And caused her trusting heart to sink
Upon Despair's cold, cheerless brink,
Is character I much adore.

Nature has printed the largest book
That eye has ever seen,
And filled it with colored pictures fair,
In white and gray and green.
She offers it free to all mankind—
Noble, generous deed—
But few there are in its pages rare,
Have ever learned to read.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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