by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Give, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer,
Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.
And from a thousand sources, far and near,
Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger.
Give words of comfort, of defence, and hope,
To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error.
And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope,
Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror.
Give of thy gold, though small thy portion be.
Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps it.
It grows in one that opens wide and free.
Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it.
Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth
Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning.
And wheresoe’er thy pathway leads on earth,
There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light burning.