The Promise

OT charity we ask,

Nor yet thy gift refuse;

Please thy light fancy with the easy

Only to look and choose.

The little-heeded

That wins thy treasured

May be the dearest memory, holiest joy,

Of coming years untold.

Heaven rains on every heart,

But there its showers divide,

The drops of mercy choosing, as they part,

The dark or glowing side.

One kindly deed may

The fountain of thy

To love’s sweet day-star, that shall o’er thee

Long as its currents roll.

The pleasures thou hast planned,—­Where shall their memory

When the white angel with the freezing

Shall sit and watch by thee?

Living, thou dost not live,

If mercy’s spring run dry;

What Heaven has lent thee wilt thou freely give,

Dying, thou shalt not die.

HE promised even so!

To thee his lips repeat,—­Behold, the tears that soothed thy sister’s

Have washed thy Master’s feet!

March 20, 1859.