Say, shall we yield Him in costly devotion,
Odors of Eden and off'rings divine?
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,

Vainly with gold would His favors secure: Richer, by far, is the heart's adoration; Dearer to Him are the prayers of the poor.

REGINALD HEBER

Oh, guide me sacred Star!
To lowly Bethlehem afar;

Pause o'er the manger where I tribute bring:
No frankincense or myrrh, my offering;
But the rich treasure of a loyal heart
I prostrate lay before the Infant King;
May He to me His royal grace impart.
ELIZABETH C. KINNEY

For thee the nard and spices,
And the fine linen's fold;
But not for these suffices
The ointment and the gold;
Things nobler still and fairer,
O Savior! shall be thine;
Man's heart hath offerings rarer,
Sweet sound, and song divine.

And prayer shall grow intenser,
And love and faith more strong,
As swings the golden censer,
As swells the glorious song,
Up through the minster arches,
Up to the skies star-sown,
Where planets in their marches
Have music of their own.

C. F. ALEXANDER

What were those the Magi offered,-
Frankincense and gold and myrrh?

Sometimes it is hard to listen
To a word unkind or cold,
And to smile a loving answer;-
Do it, and you give Him gold.

Thoughts of Him in world or pleasure,
Those small grains of incense rare,
Cast upon a burning censer,

Rise in perfumed clouds of prayer.

There are sometimes bitter fancies,
Little murmurs that will stir
Even a loving heart; but crush them
And you give our Jesus myrrh.

Give Him now, to-day, forever,
One great gift, the first, the best;
Give your heart to Him, and ask Him
How to give Him all the rest.
A. A. PROCTER

"What shall I give to thee, O Lord?
The kings that came of old
Laid softly on thy cradle rude

Their myrrh and gems and gold.
Thy martyrs gave their hearts' warm blood,
Their ashes strewed thy way;

They spurned their lives as dreams and dust,
To speed thy coming Ray.

"Thou knowest of sweet and precious things My store is scant and small:

Yet, wert thou here in want and woe,
Lord, I would give thee all."

There came a voice from heavenly heights:
"Unclose thine eyes and see;

Gifts to the least of those I love

Thou givest unto Me."

ROSE TERRY COOKE

XI

THE GIFT

Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.—

II Cor. IX: 15