Explore "Dorcas" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
If I might guess, then guess I would / That, mid the gathered folk, / This gentle Dorcas one day stood, / And heard when Jesus spoke.
She saw the woven seamless coat -- / 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 / To work one service poor for him / For whom she glad would die!
But, hark, he speaks! Oh, precious word! / And she has heard indeed! / "When did we see thee naked, Lord, / 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."
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.