| W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895. | | | | Dorcas | | George MacDonald (1824–1905) |
| | | IF I might guess, then guess I would:— | |
| Amid the gathered folk, | |
| This gentle Dorcas one day stood, | |
| And heard what Jesus spoke. | |
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| She saw the woven, seamless coat— | 5 |
| Half envious for his sake: | |
| “Oh, happy hands,” she said, “that wrought | |
| That 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 a mighty word; | |
| She hearkens now indeed! | |
| “When did we see thee naked, Lord, | 15 |
| And clothed thee in thy need? | |
| |
| “The King shall answer, Inasmuch | |
| As to my brothers 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 arrayed | |
| She died—they wept about the room, | |
| And showed the coats she made. | | | | |
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