Poems (Larcom)/The Secret
For works with similar titles, see The Secret.
THE SECRET.
WTHAT selfishness asked for Was vain: What came for that asking Brought pain.
Heaven's manna in keeping Was spoiled: All beauty self-seeking Hath soiled.
Complacency blazoned Dull dross. No gain came of hoarding, But loss.
Gain! none save the giver Receives. Yet who that old gospel Believes?
Nor pauper nor beggar Then be; Nor niggard of bounty Most free.
But one way is Godlike,— To give. Then pour out thy heart's blood, And live!