Give all your shillings you might And hurt your brothers the more; He only can serve his fellows aright Who goes in at the little door.

We must do the thing we _must_ Before the thing we _may;_ We are unfit for any trust Till we can and do obey.

_Willie speaks._

I will try more and more; I have nothing now to ask; _Obedience_ I know is the little door: Now set me some hard task.

_The Father answers._

No, Willie; the father of all, Teacher and master high, Has set your task beyond recall, Nothing can set it by.

_Willie speaks._

What is it, father dear, That he would have me do?

I'd ask himself, but he's not near, And so I must ask you!

_The Father answers._

Me 'tis no use to ask, I too am one of his boys!

But he tells each boy his own plain task; Listen, and hear his voice.

_Willie speaks._

Father, I'm listening _so_ To hear him if I may!

His voice must either be very low, Or very far away!

_The Father answers._

It is neither hard to hear, Nor hard to understand; It is very low, but very near, A still, small, strong command.

_Willie answers._

I do not hear it at all; I am only hearing you!

_The Father speaks._

Think: is there nothing, great or small, You ought to go and do?

_Willie answers._

Let me think:--I ought to feed My rabbits. I went away In such a hurry this morning! Indeed They've not had enough to-day!

_The Father speaks._

That is his whisper low!

That is his very word!

You had only to stop and listen, and so Very plainly you heard!

That duty's the little door: You must open it and go in; There is nothing else to do before, There is nowhere else to begin.

_Willie speaks._

But that's so easily done!

It's such a trifling affair!

So nearly over as soon as begun.

For that he can hardly care!

_The Father answers._

You are turning from his call If you let that duty wait; You would not think any duty small If you yourself were great.

The nearest is at life's core; With the first, you all begin: What matter how little the little door If it only let you in?

V.

_Willie speaks._

Papa, I am come again: It is now three months and more That I've tried to do the thing that was plain, And I feel as small as before.

_The Father answers._

Your honour comes too slow?

How much then have you done?

One foot on a mole-heap, would you crow As if you had reached the sun?

_Willie speaks._

But I cannot help a doubt Whether this way be the true: The more I do to work it out The more there comes to do;

And yet, were all done and past, I should feel just as small, For when I had tried to the very last-- 'Twas my duty, after all!

It is only much the same As not being liar or thief!

_The Father answers._

One who tried it found even, with shame, That of sinners he was the chief!

My boy, I am glad indeed You have been finding the truth!

_Willie speaks._

But where's the good? I shall never speed-- Be one whit greater, in sooth!

If duty itself must fail, And that be the only plan, How shall my scarce begun duty prevail To make me a mighty man?

_The Father answers._

Ah, Willie! what if it were Quite another way to fall?

What if the greatness itself lie there-- In knowing that you are small?