Poems (Kimball)/The Common Offering

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

THE COMMON OFFERING.

IT is not the deed we do,
 Though the deed be never so fair,
But the love that the dear Lord looketh for,
 Hidden with holy care
 In the heart of the deed so fair.

The love is the priceless thing,
 The treasure our treasure must hold,
Or ever the Lord will take the gift,
 Or tell the worth of the gold
 (By the love that cannot be told).

Behold us, the rich and the poor,
 Dear Lord, in Thy service drawn near;
One consecrateth a precious coin,
 One droppeth only a tear:
 Look, Master; the love is here!