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GIFTS.
Who loves not gifts? They speak to us of love,The giver's friendly thought for us they prove,Our pressing needs perchance his pity move, And so he gives.
He ponders well our wishes and our aims,Our taste his generous attention claims,And his own mind he by his gift proclaims, We know him thus.
No payment sought beyond love's glad response,Say, do we meet such gifts with nonchalance?Rather, we stretch the hand and take at once, And speak our thanks.
A gift of value,—oh, what joy it brings!We class it with our choicest, dearest things,And a full sense of ownership upsprings Within our hearts.
A trifle given with a smile we take,And prize it for the kindly giver's sake,And readily acknowledgment we make With gratitude.
Ob, friends! the gift of which I fain would tellIs yours, is mine, it fits our longings well,God gave His Son—a gift unspeakable— Let us give thanks.
