Nor counts on favor, fame, or praise,
Shall find his smallest gift outweighs
The burden of the sea and land.
Who gives to whom hath naught been given,
His gift in need, though small indeed,
As is the grass-blade’s wind-blown seed,
Is large as earth, and rich as heaven.
Forget it not, O man, to whom
A gift shall fall while yet on earth;
Yea, even to thy sevenfold birth