[Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | ||
MEMORIAL.
Toiling early, and toiling late,
Though her name was never heard,
To the least of her Saviour's little ones,
She meekly ministered,—
Though her name was never heard,
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She meekly ministered,—
Publishing good news to the poor;
She came to their homes unsought,
And her feet on the hills were beautiful,
For the blessings which they brought.
She came to their homes unsought,
And her feet on the hills were beautiful,
For the blessings which they brought.
Such a perfect life as hers, again,
In the world we may not see;
For her heart was full of love, and her hands
Were full of charity.
In the world we may not see;
For her heart was full of love, and her hands
Were full of charity.
Oh woe for us! cried the weak and poor,
And the weary ones made moan;
And the mourners went about the streets,
When she went to her home alone.
And the weary ones made moan;
And the mourners went about the streets,
When she went to her home alone.
And, seeing her go from the field of life,
From toiling, early and late,
We said, What good has she gained, to show
For a sacrifice so great?
From toiling, early and late,
We said, What good has she gained, to show
For a sacrifice so great?
We might have learned from the husbandman
To wait more patiently,
Since his seed of wheat lies under the snow,
Not quickened, except it die.
To wait more patiently,
Since his seed of wheat lies under the snow,
Not quickened, except it die.
For when we raised our eyes again
From their sorrow's wintry night,
We saw how the deeds of good she hid
Were pushing up to the light.
From their sorrow's wintry night,
We saw how the deeds of good she hid
Were pushing up to the light.
And still the precious seed she showed,
In patient, sorrowing trust,
Though not for her mortal eyes to see,
Comes blossoming out of the dust.
In patient, sorrowing trust,
Though not for her mortal eyes to see,
Comes blossoming out of the dust.
[Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | ||