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W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.


George MacDonald (1824–1905)

IF I might guess, then guess I would:—

Amid the gathered folk,

This gentle Dorcas one day stood,

And heard what Jesus spoke.

She saw the woven, seamless coat—

Half envious for his sake:

“Oh, happy hands,” she said, “that wrought

That honoured thing to make!”

Her eyes with longing tears grow dim,

She never can come nigh

To work one service poor for him

For whom she glad would die!

But hark! he speaks a mighty word;

She hearkens now indeed!

“When did we see thee naked, Lord,

And clothed thee in thy need?

“The King shall answer, Inasmuch

As to my brothers ye

Did it—even to the least of such—

Ye did it unto me.”

Home, home she went, and plied the loom

And Jesus’ poor arrayed

She died—they wept about the room,

And showed the coats she made.