True, the heart grows rich in giving;
all the wealth is living grain;
seeds which mildew in the garner,
scattered, fill with gold the plain.
Is thy burden hard and heavy?
Do thy steps drag wearily?
Help to bear thy brother's burden,
God will bear both it and thee.
Is the heart a well left empty?
None but God its void can fill;
Nothing but a ceaseless fountain
can its ceaseless longings still.
Is the heart a living power?
Self-entwined its strength sinks low;
it can only live in loving,
and, by serving, love will grow.