Page:Poems Charlotte Allen.djvu/18

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6
poems.
And now he turned to go, but paused as he
Approached that sacred edifice where oft
He entered: his hand was thrust within his
Pocket, seeking an offering for the
Box that stood before him: he seemed ashamed
To leave the spot, till he had testified,
Though with an humble pittance, his generous
Feelings; reaching the small receptacle,
He dropped a penny in; 't was all he had;
Though only one, it was given in all
The full and fervent purity of his
Young heart; and his offering in the sight
Of Heaven was as acceptable as
If 't were thousands.
          Anon there passed along
My path, a poor and aged widow, who
Had come, as was her daily wont, to drop
Her soul's pure tribute o'er her husband's grave.
Tears are all the gems the poor possess, and
She was rich in their abundance; she too
Approached the box, and left the "widow's mite."
Again the gate turned on its hinges, and
There entered one of proud and lofty mien,
Whose garb methought bespoke a well filled purse.
From those who had preceded him, I judged
That he would leave a noble gift: but he