SMOOTHING soft the nestling head Of a maiden fancy-led, Thus a grave-eyed woman said: "Richest gifts are those we make, Dearer than the love we take That we give for love's own sake. "Well I know the heart's unrest; Mine has been the common quest, To be loved and therefore blest. "Favors undeserved were mine; At my feet as on a shrine Love has laid its gifts divine. "Sweet the offerings seemed, and yet With their sweetness came regret, And a sense of unpaid debt. "Heart of mine unsatisfied, Was it vanity or pride That a deeper joy denied? "Hands that ope but to receive Empty close; they only live Richly who can richly give. "Still," she sighed, with moistening eyes, "Love is sweet in any guise; But its best is sacrifice! "He who, giving, does not crave Likest is to Him who gave Life itself the loved to save. "Love, that self-forgetful gives, Sows surprise of ripened sheaves, Late or soon its own receives." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN ERICSSON DAY MEMORIAL, 1918 by CARL SANDBURG WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE WIND ON THE HILLS by DORA SIGERSON SHORTER ON A GRAVE IN CHRIST-CHURCH, HANTS by OSCAR FAY ADAMS HAUNTED STREETS by MATHILDE BLIND CORONATION ODE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |