| Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922. | | | | Dorcas | | By George MacDonald (1824–1905) |
| | | IF I might guess, then guess I would | |
| That, mid the gather’d folk, | |
| This gentle Dorcas one day stood, | |
| And heard when Jesus spoke. | |
| |
| She saw the woven seamless coat— | 5 |
| Half envious, for his sake: | |
| ‘Oh, happy hands,’ she said, ‘that wrought | |
| The honoured thing to make!’ | |
| |
| Her eyes with longing tears grow dim: | |
| She never can come nigh | 10 |
| To work one service poor for him | |
| For whom she glad would die! | |
| |
| But hark, he speaks! O, precious word! | |
| And she has heard indeed! | |
| ‘When did we see thee naked, Lord, | 15 |
| And clothed thee in thy need? | |
| |
| ‘The King shall answer, Inasmuch | |
| As to my brethren ye | |
| Did it—even to the least of such— | |
| Ye did it unto me.’ | 20 |
| |
| Home, home she went, and plied the loom, | |
| And Jesus’ poor array’d. | |
| She died—they wept about the room, | |
| And showed the coats she made. | | | | |
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