• Better to me the poor mans crust,
    Better the blessing of the poor,
    Though I turn me empty from his door;
    That is no true alms which the hand can hold;
    He gives nothing but worthless gold
    Who gives from a sense of duty;
    But he who gives a slender mite,
    And gives to that which is out of sight,
    That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty
    Which runs through all and doth all unite, -
    The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms,
    The heart outstretches its eager palms,
    For a god goes with it and makes it store
    To the soul that was starving in darkness before.

    James Russell Lowell, “The Vision Of Sir Launfal”