  Hang old Christ Church with purple, The colors of a king, In honor of the kingly soul Which hence has taken wing; In consolation’s labor He fell—his Lord’s behest— So evening skies are purple-clad When goes the sun to rest. Paul’s Bishop—“Blameless, Vigilant, Wise, Patient, apt to Teach,” Careless of fame or lucre, All men he longed to reach; “Of Good Report ’mongst those Without,” Pure, Genial, Loyal, True, Thus, “Brother Man,” God’s Bishop Toiled, preached, and sowed for you. Thus through the land toiled, preached, and sowed The manliest of men The seeds of truth, and from his dust Shall spring his like again; New Dudleys—’tis the Master’s pledge— Shall at his voice arise, For his immortal spirit speaks To earth from Paradise, And the purple robes of other kings— Such force a good example brings— Shall glorify the skies. |
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