Verse > Anthologies > > Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. > The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse
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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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