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Of true benevolence, its charms divine,
With other motives to call forth its power,
And its grand triumphs, multiplied beyond
All former bounds, in this its golden age,
Humbly I sing, awed by the holy theme;
A theme exalted, though as yet unsung,
In beauty rich, of inspiration full,
And worthy of a nobler harp than that
From which heroic strains sublimely sound.

— Carlos Wilcox

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More quotes by Carlos Wilcox

Rouse to some work of high and holy love,
And thou an angel's happiness shall know.

Time well employed is Satan's deadliest foe:
It leaves no opening for the lurking fiend.

The sultry summer past, September comes,
Soft twilight of the soft-declining year.
All mildness, soothing loneliness and peace,
The fading season ere the falling come.

Be thy best thoughts to work divine addressed;
Do something — do it soon — will all thy might;
An angel's wing would droop if long at rest,
And God Himself inactive were no longer blessed.

'Tis infamy to die and not be missed.

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Carlos Wilcox (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.