PART OF THE PRICE.

Take back, my friend, the gifts once given.

No fairer find I this side Heaven

With which to bless thee, than thine own

Resource of blessing. Mine alone

To render what is mine to lose.

No niggard am I with it. Choose!

Lavish, I keep not any part

Of that great price within my heart.

Wilt thou the quiet comfort have?

Thine be it, daily, to the grave!

The courage, shining down from one

Whose answering eyes put out the sun?

The tenderness that touched the nerve

Like music? Oh, I bid these serve

Thee, soothe thee, watchful of thy need

While mine is unattended; feed

Thy heart while mine goes famished. Glad,

I give the dearest thing I had.

Impoverished, can I find or spare

Aught else to thee of rich or rare?

Sweet thoughts that through the soul do sing,

And deeds like loving hands that cling,

And loyal faith — a sentry — nigh,

And prayers all rose-clouds hovering high?

Nay, nay; I keep not any. Hold

The wealth I leave with fingers cold

And trembling in thine own. One thing

Alone I do deny to bring

And give again to thee. Not now,

Nor ever, Dear, shalt thou learn how

To wrest it from me. Test thy strength!

By the world's measures, height or length —

Too weak art thou, too weak to gain,

By sleight of tenderness or snatch of pain

— At thine own most or least — to take from me

Mine own ideal lost — and saved — of thee.