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Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

V. Death and Bereavement

The Widow’s Mite

Frederick Locker-Lampson (1821–1895)

A WIDOW—she had only one!

A puny and decrepit son;

But, day and night,

Though fretful oft, and weak and small,

A loving child, he was her all—

The Widow’s Mite.

The Widow’s Mite—ay, so sustained,

She battled onward, nor complained,

Though friends were fewer:

And while she toiled for daily fare,

A little crutch upon the stair

Was music to her.

I saw her then,—and now I see

That, though resigned and cheerful, she

Has sorrowed much:

She has, He gave it tenderly,

Much faith; and carefully laid by,

The little crutch.