If thou canst wake within one human breast
A thought of lasting joy, if thou hast stirred
Holy desire by some inspiring word
Or lulled the sorrowful to soothing rest;
If with some glorious vision thou hast blest
The tired, the wayworn (as when some rapt bird
Unseen pours forth its soul, the song is heard
By the tranced leaves and flowers, a-tremble lest
It cease too soon, too soon) — if this thy lot,
Care not how lonely thou mayst seem to be,
How cast away as useless or forgot;
As to the mightiest comes his work, to thee
The humble task to light some little spot,
Though star-like, yet with rays the heavens may see.