Dedicated to the Right Rev’d D. A. Payne + 

Oh! surely ’tis a theme sublime + 

That stirs my soul to-day; + 

Awake then, muse nor slumber more, + 

Till sung the wondrous lay. + 

My song shall be of one, whose youth + 

And strength were freely given + 

To elevate, instruct, and lead + 

Benighted souls to heaven. + 

My song shall be of him, whose hand + 

A mother’s taste did mould; + 

Whose precepts noble were to her + 

As apples of pure gold. + 

I’ll tell of one whose virtues rare + 

In modesty enshrined; + 

Who bears a lasting laurel wreath + 

About his brow entwined. + 

Who in the days that tried men’s souls + 

Did ne’er from duty quail, + 

But wrought on ensign, lifted high, + 

There’s no such word as fail! + 

Mem’ries so sweet are hov’ring round, + 

That I, with Psalmist, say + 

“O! had I wings like turtle dove, + 

Quickly I’d fly away!” + 

Away, away beyond the hills + 

Where blooms the tree of life, + 

Where limpid streams whose silent flow, + 

Ne’er stir the sea of strife. + 

Oh! Bishop, Pastor, Friend, may’st thou + 

To green old age be spared; + 

Then, like a fully ripened ear + 

Go to thy rich reward. + 