768. C. M. Mrs. Barbauld. |Ye are the Salt of the Earth.|

1 Salt of the earth! ye virtuous few
Who season human kind;
Light of the world! whose cheering ray
Illumes the realms of mind.

2 Where misery spreads her deepest shade
Your strong compassion glows;
From your blest lips the balm proceeds
That softens human woes.

3 Yours is the large expansive thought,
The high heroic deed;
Exile and chains to you are dear,
To you 'tis sweet to bleed.

4 Proceed! your race of glory run,
Your virtuous toils endure;
You come commissioned from on high,
And your reward is sure.