GIVE AND IT SHALL BE GIVEN.
By Edith V. Brandt
If I should see
A brother languishing in sore distress,
And I should turn and leave him comfortless,
When I might be
A messenger of hope and happiness—
How could I ask to have what I denied
In my own hour of bitterness supplied? If I might share
A brother’s load along the dusty way,
And I should turn and walk alone that day,
How could I dare—
When in the evening watch I knelt to pray—
To ask for help to bear my pain and loss,
If I had heeded not my brother’s cross? If I might sing
A little song to cheer a fainting heart—
And I should seal my lips and sit apart,
When I might bring
A bit of sunshine for life’s ache and smart—
How could I hope to have my grief relieved
If I kept silent when my brother grieved? And so I know
That day is lost wherein I fail to lend
A helping hand to some wayfaring friend;
But if it show
A burden lightened by the cheer I sent,
Then do I hold the golden hours well spent,
And lay me down to sleep in sweet content,
—Edith V. Brandt.