I hope the heart that's hungry
For things above the floor,
Will find within its portals
An item rich in store;
That melancholy mortals
Will count their mercies o'er,
And learn that Truth and wisdom
Have many items more;
That when a wrong is done us,
It stirs no thought of strife;
And Love becomes the substance,
As item, of our life;
That every ragged urchin,
With bare feet soiled or sore,
Share God's most tender mercies,—
Find items at our door.
Then if we've done to others
Some good ne'er told before,
When angels shall repeat it,
'Twill be an item more.