Things That Never Die

Since it's Memorial Day and we're taking some time to remember, I thought it would be appropriate to share this Dickens poem with you. If you're less visual and more aural, you can probably find a choir singing a setting of it (which is where I first heard it).

The Things That Never Die
Charles Dickens

The pure, the bright,
the beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The streams of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning cry,
The striving after better hopes—
These things can never die.

 The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need;
A kindly word in grief's dark hour
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high,
The sorrow of a contrite heart—
These things shall never die.

 Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some work to do,
Lose not a chance to waken love—
Be firm and just and true.
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam on thee from on high,
And angel voices say to thee—
"These things shall never die."