If We Knew by Ellen M. H. Gates

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Aug 17, 1911

If We Knew

By Ellen M. H. Gates

If we knew, when walking thoughtless Through the crowded, dusty way, That some pearl of wondrous whiteness Close beside our pathway lay, We would pause when now we hasten, We would oftener look around, Lest our careless feet should trample Some rare jewel in the ground.

If we knew what forms were fainting For the shade which we should fling, If we guessed what lips were parching For the water we should bring, We would hasten with eager footsteps, We would work in storm and calm, Bearing cups of cooling water, Planting rows of shading palm.

If we knew what feet were weary, Through the weary nights and days, Sighing still amid their toiling For some word of hope and praise, Buds of balm and leaves of laurels We would place in every hand; Little deeds with pleasant meanings Hungry hearts can understand.

If we knew what feet were weary, Climbing up the hills of pain, By the world cast out as evil, Like old Judah’s Magdalene, We no more would dare to scorn them With our foolish fear and pride, Wrapping close our robes around us, Passing on the other side.

If we knew when friends around us Closely press to say “Good-by,” Which among the lips that kiss us First beneath the flowers would lie, While, like rain upon their faces, Fall our bitter, blinding tears, Tender words of love eternal We would whisper in their ears.

If we knew what hands were rearing Massive structures on the sand, Planting Upas for a shade-tree, To protect their palace grand, We would point to many a venture, Fair and stately as their own, Shining fragments,—dome and turret,— Which the winds had overblown.

—Ellen M. H. Gates.