The sun gives ever; so the earth-- What it can give so much 'tis worth; The ocean gives in many ways-- Gives baths, gives fishes, rivers, bays; So, too, the air, it gives us breath. When it stops giving, comes in death. Give, give, be always giving; Who gives not is not living; The more you give The more you live. God's love hath in us wealth unheaped Only by giving it is reaped; The body withers, and the mind Is pent up by a selfish rind. Give strength, give thought, give deeds, give pelf, Give love, give tears, and give thyself. Give, give, be always giving, Who gives not is not living; The more we give The more we live. Slightest actions often meet the sorest needs, For the world wants daily little kindly deeds; O, what care and sorrow you may help remove With your song and courage, sympathy and love. NOT LOST The look of sympathy; the gentle word Spoken so low that only angels heard; The secret act of pure self-sacrifice, Unseen by men, but marked by angels' eyes; These are not lost. The silent tears that fall at dead of night Over soiled robes that once were pure and white; The prayers that rise like incense from the soul, Longing for Christ to make it clean and whole; These are not lost. The happy dreams that gladdened all our youth, When dreams had less of self and more of truth; The childhood's faith, so tranquil and so sweet, Which sat like Mary at the Master's feet; These are not lost. The kindly plans devised for others' good, So seldom guessed, so little understood; The quiet, steadfast love that strove to win Some wanderer from the ways of sin; These are not lost. Not lost, O Lord! for in Thy city bright Our eyes shall see the past by clearer light, And things long hidden from our gaze below Thou wilt reveal, and we shall surely know They were not lost. There's never a rose in all the world But makes some green spray sweeter; There's never a wind in all the sky But makes some bird wing fleeter; There's never a star but brings to heaven Some silver radiance tender; And never a rosy cloud but helps To crown the sunset splendor; No robin but may thrill some heart, His dawn like gladness voicing; God gives us all some small sweet way To set the world rejoicing. A BROADER FIELD O thou who sighest for a broader field Wherein to sow the seeds of truth and right-- Who fain a fuller, nobler power would wield O'er human souls that languish for the light-- Search well the realm that even now is thine! Canst not thou in some far-off corner find A heart sin-bound, like tree with sapping vine, Waiting for help its burdens to unbind?