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.
And so, if thou would'st have me strong,
Dwell not on what is sad or wrong;
'Tis not in marking how they fail
That men find courage to prevail.
I ask no more than just the chance
To match my will with circumstance,
With what I am in mind and heart
To take my due and play my part.
God showeth me no special grace,
And why should'st thou? Yield me my place—
The right to strive—and spare me, pray.
Thy well-intentioned sympathy.