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Poem
September 29, 1849
New England Religious Herald
Hartford, Hartford County, Connecticut
What is this article about?
A poem by L. E. L. extolling the widow's mite—a small gift from poverty—as more blessed than the rich's abundant but unfeeling donations, highlighting the hardships of the poor and the moral value of sacrificial giving.
Clipping
OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
THE WIDOW'S MITE
BY L. E. L.
It is the fruit of waking hours
When others are asleep,
When morning round the low thatch'd roof
The winds of winter creep.
It is the fruit of summer days
Passed in a gloomy room,
When others are abroad to taste
The pleasant morning bloom.
'Tis given from a scanty store
And miss'd while it is given;
'Tis given, for the claims of earth
Are less than those of Heaven.
Few, save the poor, feel for the poor,
The rich know not how hard
It is to be of needful food
Their needful rest debarred.
Their paths are paths of plenteousness,
They sleep on silk and down,
And never think how heavily
The weary head lies down.
They know not of the scanty meal
With small pale faces round;
No fire upon the cold, damp hearth,
When snow is on the ground.
They ever by their windows sit.
And see the gay world pass by,
Yet take their weary work again,
Though with a mournful eye.
The rich, they give—they miss it not—
A blessing cannot be
Like that which rests, thou widow'd one
Upon thy gift and thee!
BY L. E. L.
It is the fruit of waking hours
When others are asleep,
When morning round the low thatch'd roof
The winds of winter creep.
It is the fruit of summer days
Passed in a gloomy room,
When others are abroad to taste
The pleasant morning bloom.
'Tis given from a scanty store
And miss'd while it is given;
'Tis given, for the claims of earth
Are less than those of Heaven.
Few, save the poor, feel for the poor,
The rich know not how hard
It is to be of needful food
Their needful rest debarred.
Their paths are paths of plenteousness,
They sleep on silk and down,
And never think how heavily
The weary head lies down.
They know not of the scanty meal
With small pale faces round;
No fire upon the cold, damp hearth,
When snow is on the ground.
They ever by their windows sit.
And see the gay world pass by,
Yet take their weary work again,
Though with a mournful eye.
The rich, they give—they miss it not—
A blessing cannot be
Like that which rests, thou widow'd one
Upon thy gift and thee!
What sub-type of article is it?
Lyric
What themes does it cover?
Moral Virtue
Satire Society
What keywords are associated?
Widows Mite
Charity Poverty
Rich Indifference
Moral Giving
Heavenly Blessing
What entities or persons were involved?
By L. E. L.
Poem Details
Title
The Widow's Mite
Author
By L. E. L.
Subject
The Widow's Charitable Giving
Form / Style
Rhymed Quatrains
Key Lines
'Tis Given From A Scanty Store
And Miss'd While It Is Given;
'Tis Given, For The Claims Of Earth
Are Less Than Those Of Heaven.
The Rich, They Give—They Miss It Not—
A Blessing Cannot Be
Like That Which Rests, Thou Widow'd One
Upon Thy Gift And Thee!