27. to John Pierpont.Servant of Christ, erect, unwearied, strong,
Fresh from the toils of nearly fourscore years--
A work-day in his vineyard brave and long--
The evening hour thou giv'st to man, to God,
The last the brightest of thy life appears.
On! to the Holy City, which the foe
Of man and God assails, to overthrow
The fairest temple mortal hands have raised,
And tramp with Slavery's hoofs where Freedom trod,
Thou girdest on thy armor. God be praised.
Lift high his Cross. By that his hosts be led.
Soldier of God! his banner wave; thy head
Bearing its mortal crest of silver white,
Thy lofty soul wreathed with immortal light.