’Tis not the gift, but ’tis the spirit

With which ’tis given,

That on the gift confers a merit,

As seen by Heaven.

’Tis not the prayer, however boldly

It strikes the ear;

It mounts in vain, it falls but coldly

If not sincere.

’Tis not the deeds the loudest lauded

That brightest shine;

There’s many a virtue unapplauded,

And yet divine.

’Tis not the word that sounds the sweetest

That’s soonest heard;

A sigh, when humbled thou retreatest,

May be preferred.

The outward show may be delusive,—

A cheating name;

The inner spirit is conclusive

Of worth or shame.