The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

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[325]
     And beauty smiles, new risen from the spray,
And Dian weeps once more;
     Where every tongue in Smyrna's mart resounds;
And Stamboul from the sea
     Lifts her tall minarets over burial-grounds
Black with the cypress-tree!

From Malta's temples to the gates of Rome,
     Following the track of Paul,
And where the Alps gird round the Switzer's home
     Their vast, eternal wall;
They paused not by the ruins of old time,
     They scanned no pictures rare,
Nor lingered where the snow-locked mountains climb
     The cold abyss of air

But unto prisons, where men lay in chains,
     To haunts where Hunger pined,
To kings and courts forgetful of the pains
     And wants of human-kind,
Scattering sweet words, and quiet deeds of good,
     Along their way, like flowers,
Or pleading, as Christ's freemen only could,
     With princes and with powers;

Their single aim the purpose to fulfil
     Of Truth, from day to day,
Simply obedient to its guiding will,
     They held their pilgrim way.
Yet dream not, hence, the beautiful and old
     Were wasted on their sight,
Who in the school of Christ had learned to hold
     All outward things aright.