 | Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight |  |
42
XXXV. GIFTS.
You say I throw my gifts to the unworthy:So doth the Lord of Love who rules on high;
So doth the liberal Sun to all things earthy,
To hill or plain, to palace or to sty.
Who sells his gifts for gratitude expected
Is but a bargaining huckster at the best;—
The Sun asks nothing for his rays reflected;
I ask for nothing—prithee let me rest!
| Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | |