Father—I have been humble here,
So when I come to Thee,
It will be meet that Thou should’st give
Thy lowliest place to me.
Give me no rare and priceless garb,
No crown with glittering gem,
But let me sit and patiently
Broider Thy garment’s hem.
I shall not envy her that sings
At morn and eve until
Her passion and her rapture make
The very angels thrill.
I shall not envy her that sits
Proudly at thy right side;
Give me the lowest, humblest place—
I shall be satisfied.
I shall not envy even her
Upon whose crowned hair
Thou layest Thy tender, gracious hand,
And praisest, as most fair,
If once—only once—Thou wilt stoop
To me, as to a child,
That ever after I may say:
“He looked at me and smiled.”
“Humility” as it appears in When the Birds Go North Again (1898).