He made men seers, young dreamers to desire
    The one thing good – to do the difficult right;
    He cast Truth’s heart into the fiercest fight,
And bade us battle on and never tire;
He kindled hope, he set dead faith afire
    Gave workers will, filled eyes with love and sight
    And, by the lamp of Service, thro’ the night
Led learning from the ruts and from the mire.

Not praise nor scorn, not riches, honour, fame,
    Could tempt his hand a moment from the plough,
        Nor the world-deafening clamour of the daws
        Pecking about the ploughshare harm his cause;
    Let others reap – he claimed to serve and sow—
And as he toiled, the Lord of Harvest came.

(Spectator, 60 (5 November 1887), 1488)