1 Turn not from him who asks of thee
A portion of thy store;
Thou poor in worldly goods may'st be,
Yet canst give what is more.
2 The balm of comfort thou canst pour
Into his grieving mind,
Who oft is turned from wealth's proud door,
With many a word unkind.
3 Does any from the false world find
Naught but reproach and scorn?
Does any, stung by words unkind,
Wish that he ne'er was born?
4 Do thou raise up his drooping heart,
Restore his wounded mind;
Though naught of wealth thou canst impart
Yet still thou may'st be kind.
5 And oft again thy words shall wing
Backward their course to thee,
And in thy breast will prove a spring
Of pure felicity.