 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
181
PLEA FOR CHARITY.
If one had never seen the full completeness
Of the round year, but tarried half the way,
How should he guess the fair and flowery sweetness
That cometh with the May—
Guess of the bloom, and of the rainy sweetness
That come in with the May!
Of the round year, but tarried half the way,
How should he guess the fair and flowery sweetness
That cometh with the May—
Guess of the bloom, and of the rainy sweetness
That come in with the May!
Suppose he had but heard the winds a-blowing,
And seen the brooks in icy chains fast bound,
How should he guess that waters in their flowing
Could make so glad a sound—
Guess how their silver tongues should be set going
To such a tuneful sound!
And seen the brooks in icy chains fast bound,
How should he guess that waters in their flowing
Could make so glad a sound—
Guess how their silver tongues should be set going
To such a tuneful sound!
Suppose he had not seen the bluebirds winging,
Nor seen the day set, nor the morning rise,
Nor seen the golden balancing and swinging
Of the gay butterflies—
Who could paint April pictures, worth the bringing
To notice of his eyes?
Nor seen the day set, nor the morning rise,
Nor seen the golden balancing and swinging
Of the gay butterflies—
Who could paint April pictures, worth the bringing
To notice of his eyes?
Suppose he had not seen the living daisies,
Nor seen the rose, so glorious and bright,
Were it not better than your far-off praises
Of all their lovely light,
To give his hands the holding of the daisies,
And of the roses bright?
Nor seen the rose, so glorious and bright,
Were it not better than your far-off praises
Of all their lovely light,
To give his hands the holding of the daisies,
And of the roses bright?
O Christian man, deal gently with the sinner—
Think what an utter wintry waste is his
Whose heart of love has never been the winner,
To know how sweet it is—
Be pitiful. O Christian, to the sinner.
Think what a world is his!
Think what an utter wintry waste is his
Whose heart of love has never been the winner,
To know how sweet it is—
Be pitiful. O Christian, to the sinner.
Think what a world is his!
He never heard the lisping and the trembling
Of Eden's gracious leaves about his head—
His mirth is nothing but the poor dissembling
Of a great soul unfed—
Oh, bring him where the Eden-leaves are trembling,
And give him heavenly bread.
Of Eden's gracious leaves about his head—
His mirth is nothing but the poor dissembling
Of a great soul unfed—
Oh, bring him where the Eden-leaves are trembling,
And give him heavenly bread.
As Winter doth her shriveled branches cover
With greenness, knowing springtime's soft desire,
Even so the soul, knowing Jesus for a lover,
Puts on a new attire—
A garment fair as snow, to meet the Lover
Who bids her come up higher.
With greenness, knowing springtime's soft desire,
Even so the soul, knowing Jesus for a lover,
Puts on a new attire—
A garment fair as snow, to meet the Lover
Who bids her come up higher.
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |