Since I have no lands or houses,And no hoarded golden store,What can I leave those who love me When they see my face no more?Do not smile;I am not jesting,Though my words sound gay and light,Listen to me,dearest Alice,I will make my Will to-night.
First for Mabel--who will never Let the dust of future years Dim the thought of me,but keep it Brighter still:perhaps with tears.In whose eyes,whate'er I glance at,Touch,or praise,will always shine,Through a strange and sacred radiance,By Love's Charter,wholly mine;She will never lend to others Slenderest link of thought I claim,I will,therefore,to her keeping Leave my memory and my name.
Bertha will do truer service To her kind than I have done,So I leave to her young spirit The long Work I have begun.Well!the threads are tangled,broken,And the colours do not blend,She will bend her earnest striving Both to finish and amend:And,when it is all completed,Strong with care and rich with skill,Just because my hands began it,She will love it better still.
Ruth shall have my dearest token,The one link I dread to break,The one duty that I live for,She,when I am gone,will take.Sacred is the trust I leave her,Needing patience,prayer,and tears;I have striven to fulfil it,As she knows--these many years.Sometimes hopeless,faint,and weary Yet a blessing shall remain With the task,and Ruth will prize it For my many hours of pain.
What must I leave you,my Alice?Nothing,Love,to do or bear,Nothing that can dim your blue eyes With the slightest cloud of care.I will leave my heart to love you,With the tender faith of old;Still to comfort,warm,and light you,Should your life grow dark or cold.No one else,my child,can claim it;Though you find old scars of pain,They were only wounds,my darling,There is not,I trust,one stain.
Are my gifts indeed so worthless Now the slender sum is told?Well,I know not:years may bless them With a nobler price than gold.Am I poor?ah no,most wealthy,Not in these poor gifts you take,But in the true hearts that tell me You will keep them for my sake.
