Stones from The Quarry or, Moods of Mind. By Henry Browne [i.e. Henry Ellison] |
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TO A NOBLE-HEARTED COSTERMONGER. |
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 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
TO A NOBLE-HEARTED COSTERMONGER.
True-generous Soul! that needs must overflow,Like a fountain, being full, on all around!
Like sapful tree that bark-bursts, being hidebound,
Thy generosity doth overgrow
Its self-confines, and still abroad doth go,
Until in its surroundings it hath found
Whereon to spend itself; not on the ground,
Barren, to Self, in selfishness to throw
Its wasted superflux. True Millionnaire!
Who seek'st thine own in others' happiness;
And gainest cent. per cent. by that most fair
Investment! Hard thy hand is, coarse thy dress;
Heart homespun, too, yet large; it hath to spare:
May God thee with what He to spare hath bless!
| Stones from The Quarry | |