Henry W. Longfellow

Good Part, That Shall Not Be Taken Away, The

She dwells by Great Kenhawa’s side,
 In valleys green and cool;
And all her hope and all her pride
 Are in the village school.
 
Her soul, like the transparent air
 That robes the hills above,
Though not of earth, encircles there
 All things with arms of love.
 
And thus she walks among her girls
 With praise and mild rebukes;
Subduing e’en rude village churls
 By her angelic looks.
 
She reads to them at eventide
 Of One who came to save;
To cast the captive’s chains aside
 And liberate the slave.
 
And oft the blessed time foretells
 When all men shall be free;
And musical, as silver bells,
 Their falling chains shall be.
 
And following her beloved Lord,
 In decent poverty,
She makes her life one sweet record
 And deed of charity.
 
For she was rich, and gave up all
 To break the iron bands
Of those who waited in her hall,
 And labored in her lands.
 
Long since beyond the Southern Sea
 Their outbound sails have sped,
While she, in meek humility,
 Now earns her daily bread.
 
It is their prayers, which never cease,
 That clothe her with such grace;
Their blessing is the light of peace
 That shines upon her face.
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