I
few men of hero-mould
The Quaker counts amid his ranks to-day;
But, in the troublous times of old,
Before commodity’s loud gold
Drowned with its clank the clash of steel,
The Quaker held no devious way;
For him to see was but to feel,
To feel was but to say.

II
All hail those men of yore!
Amid innumerable...