12
A GIFT.
It was given him in youth,
Bestowed by a kingly hand;
Sweet as the flower of truth,
When its first fair buds expand.
It was given him to prize,
To guard with a jealous care;
This gift in a humble guise
But precious beyond compare.
Bestowed by a kingly hand;
Sweet as the flower of truth,
When its first fair buds expand.
It was given him to prize,
To guard with a jealous care;
This gift in a humble guise
But precious beyond compare.
It was given him—he turned
From promise so close concealed,
Although in his soul he yearned
To follow the unrevealed.
He turned from a gift which came
In the flush of boyhood days,
It clung to him just the same
As he trod the world's wild maze.
From promise so close concealed,
Although in his soul he yearned
To follow the unrevealed.
He turned from a gift which came
In the flush of boyhood days,
It clung to him just the same
As he trod the world's wild maze.
It was given him—it slept.
But would not be cast aside;
Till into his heart it crept
A-quiver with love and pride.
But would not be cast aside;
Till into his heart it crept
A-quiver with love and pride.
