LOWLINESS

KATHERINE T. PORTER

The happy primrose breathed a thought of gratitude to God—
Her prayer of grace, in sweet perfume, arose above the sod:
In looking up to Him, she said, Because I lie so low,
My sight includes all other flowers which high above me grow—
How beautiful, that I can always see my dear friends so!
The Master bade his followers take the lowest seat;
He surely knew the rest, the calm—that consciousness so sweet
Which is itself the summons, Friend, up higher come! No pride
Disturbs the thought that quiet serves, and seeks for naught beside;
The bread, the wine, in tender love are up the table pressed;
The loving heart, upturned to God, welcomes His every guest.