Trifles.
Since trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our misery from trifles springs,
Since life’s best joys consist in peace and ease,
And few can serve, or save, but all may please,
Oh! let the ungentle spirit learn from hence,
A small unkindness is a great offence!
Large bounties to bestow, we wish in vain,
But all may shun the guilt of giving pain.
To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,
With power to give them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies.—But Heaven decrees
To all the gift of minist’ring to ease!
The gentle offerings of patient love,
Beyond all flattery, and all praise above;
The mild forbearance of another’s fault,
The taunting word suppress’d as soon as thought;
On these Heaven made the bliss of man depend,
And crush’d misfortune, when it made a friend.
A solitary blessing few can find:
Our joys, with those we love, are intertwined.
And he whose helpful tenderness removes
Th’ obstructing thorn that wounds the breast he loves,
Smooths not another’s rugged path alone,
But scatters roses to adorn his own!