Charity sitteth on a fair hill-top, blessing far and near, But her garments drop ambrosia, chiefly, on the violets around her: She gladdeneth indeed the map-like scene, stretching to the verge of the horizon, For her angel face is lustrous and beloved, even as the moon in heaven: But the light of that beatific vision gloweth in serener concentration The nearer to her heart, and nearer to her home,--that hill-top where she sitteth: Therefore is she kind unto her kin, yearning in affection on her neighbours, Giving gifts to those around, who know and love her well. But the counterfeit of charity, an hypocrite of earth, not a grace of heaven, Seeketh not to bless at home, for her nearer aspect is ill-favoured: Therefore hideth she for shame, counting that pride humility, And none of those around her hearth are gladdened by her gifts: Rather, with an overreaching zeal, flingeth she her bounty to the stranger, And scattered prodigalities abroad compensate for meanness in her home: For benefits showered on the distant shine in unmixed beauty, So that even she may reap their undiscerning praise: Therefore native want hath pined, where foreign need was fattened; Woman been crushed by the tyrannous hand that upheld the flag of liberality; Poverty been prisoned up and starved, by hearts that are maudlin upon crime; And freeborn babes been manacled by men, who liberate the sturdy slave. Policy counselleth a gift, given wisely and in season, And policy afterwards approveth it, for great is the influence of gifts. The lover, unsmiled upon before, is welcome for his jewelled bauble; The righteous cause without a fee, must yield to bounteous guilt: How fair is a man in thine esteem, whose just discrimination seeketh thee, And so, discerning merit, honoureth it with gifts! Yea, let the cause appear sufficient, and the motive clear and unsuspicious, As given to one who cannot help, or proving honest thanks, There liveth not one among a million, who is proof against the charm of liberality, And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power with the wisest. Man is of three natures, craving all for charity; It is not enough to give him meats, withholding other comfort: For the mind starveth, and the soul is scorned, and so the human animal Eateth his unsatisfying pittance, a thankless heartless pauper: Yet would he bless thee and be grateful, didst thou feed his spirit, And teach him that thine alms-givings are charities, are loves: --I saw a beggar in the street, and another beggar pitied him; Sympathy sank into his soul, and the pitied one felt happier: Anon passed by a cavalcade, children of wealth and gaiety; They laughed, and looked upon the beggar, and the gallants flung him gold; He, poor spirit-humbled wretch, gathered up their givings with a curse, And went--to share it with his brother, the beggar who had pitied him! OF BEAUTY. [Illustration: "T"]