Poems (Stephens)/Compensation

by Eliza Jane Stephens

For works with similar titles, see Compensation.

COMPENSATION.

There's many a wreath for the conqueror bold
 Who widens his country's domain,
Though every rood was bought dearly with blood,
 And mothers are mourning the slain.

There's chapters and songs for the fortunate ones
 Who win in the struggle for fame,
They give to our souls the sweet treasures of thought
 And justly a tribute can claim,

We've praises for beauty, we marvel at wit,
 Though both are so transient and vain,
The wealthy are flattered, and everywhere
 The mirthful are welcome again.

But Where's the reward of that noblest of work,
 The everyday work of life.
The humblest of duties must needs be fulfilled
 And peace make entreaty of strife.

Ah foolish are we that we dally with pride
 When little attention is given,
To virtues that make the great comfort of life
 And seek no reward but in Heaven.