Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By JonesVery

289 The Gifts of God

THE LIGHT that fills thy house at morn,

Thou canst not for thyself retain;

But all who with thee here are born,

It bids to share an equal gain.

The wind that blows thy ship along,

Her swelling sails cannot confine;

Alike to all the gales belong,

Nor canst thou claim a breath as thine.

The earth, the green out-spreading earth,

Why hast thou fenced it off from me?

Hadst thou than I a nobler birth,

Who callest thine a gift so free?

The wave, the blue encircling wave,

No chains can bind, no fetters hold;

Its thunders tell of Him who gave

What none can ever buy for gold.