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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420704" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Gift of Tritemius</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tritemius of Herbipolis, one day,<br>While kneeling at the altar's foot to pray,<br>Alone with God, as was his pious choice,<br>Heard from without a miserable voice,<br>A sound which seemed of all sad things to tell,<br>As of a lost soul crying out of hell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thereat the Abbot paused; the chain whereby<br>His thoughts went upward broken by that cry;<br>And, looking from the casement, saw below<br>A wretched woman, with gray hair a-flow,<br>And withered hands held up to him, who cried<br>For alms as one who might not be denied.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She cried, 'For the dear love of Him who gave<br>His life for ours, my child from bondage save,-<br>My beautiful, brave first-born, chained with slaves<br>In the Moor's galley, where the sun-smit waves<br>Lap the white walls of Tunis!'-'What I can<br>I give,' Tritemius said, 'my prayers.'-'O man<br>Of God!' she cried, for grief had made her bold,<br>'Mock me not thus; I ask not prayers, but gold.<br>Words will not serve me, alms alone suffice;<br>Even while I speak perchance my first-born dies.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Woman!' Tritemius answered, 'from our door<br>None go unfed, hence are we always poor;<br>A single soldo is our only store.<br>Thou hast our prayers;-what can we give thee<br>more?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Give me,' she said, 'the silver candlesticks<br>On either side of the great crucifix.<br>God well may spare them on His errands sped,<br>Or He can give you golden ones instead.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then spake Tritemius, 'Even as thy word,<br>Woman, so be it! (Our most gracious Lord,<br>Who loveth mercy more than sacrifice,<br>Pardon me if a human soul I prize<br>Above the gifts upon his altar piled!<br>Take what thou askest, and redeem thy child.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But his hand trembled as the holy alms<br>He placed within the beggar's eager palms;<br>And as she vanished down the linden shade,<br>He bowed his head and for forgiveness prayed.<br>So the day passed, and when the twilight came<br>He woke to find the chapel all aflame,<br>And, dumb with grateful wonder, to behold<br>Upon the altar candlesticks of gold!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420704" data-title="The Gift of Tritemius de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="Tritemius of Herbipolis, one day,
While kneeling at the altar's foot to pray,
Alone with God, as was his pious choice,
Heard from without a miserable voice,
A sound which seemed of all sad things to tell,
As of a lost soul crying out of hell.

The..."></div>
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