A Gem
IF a pilgrim has been shadowed
By a tree that I have nursed;
If a cup of clear, cold water
I have raised to lips athirst;
If I've planted one sweet flower
By an else too barren way;
If I've whispered in the midnight
One sweet word of day;
If in one poor, bleeding bosom,
I a woe-swept chord have stilled;
If a dark and restless spirit
I with hope of Heaven have filled;
If I've made for life's hard battle
One faint heart grow warm and strong
Then, my God! I thank thee bless thee,
For the precious gift of song.
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