He was a man, an upright man

He was a man, an upright man As ever trod this mortal earth, And now upon him back we scan, Whose greatest fault was honest mirth.

But never more his friends will see The smiling face and laughing eye, Nor hear his jokes with heartfelt glee, Which made dull care before them fly.

Nor ever more the friend shall find, When labour lacks, the shake of hand That oft was wont to leave behind What proved a Brother and a Friend.

In winter's bitter, biting frost, Or hail, or snow, or rain, or sleet, The wretch upon life's tempest toss'd In him found shelter from the street.

The unemployed, the aged poor, The orphan child, the lame and blind, The stranger never crossed his floor But what a friend in him did find.

But now the hand and heart are gone, Which were so noble, kind and true, And now his friends, e'en every one, Are loth to bid a last adieu.