33
GIVE ME NO PITY.
Destroy me not, O friend, I pray,
With thy well-meaning sympathy;
Give me no pity, but a place
Where falls the sunlight on my face.
The race is to the swift, I know,
The battle to the strong; but Oh!
Full recompense there is for each
When Heaven itself is in our reach.
The widow's gift of old was small,
Yet was it counted more than all;
'Tis what he does, not what he can,
That proves the measure of the man.
