"What good to others have you done?"
The angel ask'd. The miser sighed.
"Not one kind act," he sadly cried.
"Not one? Did you ne'er give, nor lend
Relief to neighbor, suppliant, friend?"
The dying eyes were closed—he thought
On all the misery he had wrought.
A ray of light! "I gave a board."
"'Tis well—'twill span death's river ford."