HERE @3much@1 and @3little@1 shift and change, With scale of need and time; There @3more@1 and @3less@1 have meanings strange, Which the world cannot rime. Sickness may be more hale than health, And service kingdom high; Yea, poverty be bounty's wealth, To give like God thereby. Bring forth your riches; let them go, Nor mourn the lost control; For if ye hoard them, surely so Their rust will reach your soul. Cast in your coins, for God delights When from wide hands they fall; But here is one who brings two mites, And thus gives more than all. I think she did not hear the praise— Went home content with need; Walked in her old poor generous ways, Nor knew her heavenly meed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR ON AN INVITATION TO THE UNITED STATES by THOMAS HARDY THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 72. THE CHOICE (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE PROPHECY OF SAMUEL SEWALL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER REFUGE by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE LAST DEMAND by FAITH BALDWIN |