Hymn: He Who Walks In Virtue's Way Poem by John Bowring

He who walks in virtue's way,
Firm and fearless, walketh surely;
Diligent while yet 'tis day,
On he speeds, and speeds securely.
Flowers of peace beneath him grow,
Suns of pleasure brighten o'er him;
Memory's joys behind him go,
Hope's sweet angels fly before him.


Thus he moves from stage to stage,
Smiles of earth and Heaven attending;
Softly sinking down to age,
And at last to death descending.
Cradled in its quiet sleep,
Calm as summer's loveliest even,
He shall sleep the hallowed sleep-
Sleep, that is o'erwatched by Heaven.


Till that day of days shall come,
When th'archangel's trumpet breaking
Through the silence of the tomb,
All its prisoners awaking;
He shall hear the thund'ring blast,
Burst the chilling bands that bound him,
To the throne of glory haste,
All heaven's splendours op'ning round him.