O may I join the choir invisible  
  Of those immortal dead who live again  
  In minds made better by their presence; live  
  In pulses stirred to generosity,  
  In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn  
  For miserable aims that end with self,  
  In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,  
  And with their mild persistence urge men's search  
  To vaster issues.
O May I Join the Choir Invisible (1867)























