Ah, Bring It Not

Ah, bring it not so grudgingly,
The gift thou bringest me,
Thy kind hands shining from afar
Let me in welcome see,
And know the treasure that they hold,
For purest gold.

And with glad feet that linger not,
Come through the summer land,
Through the sweet fragrance of the flowers,
Swiftly to where I stand,
And in the sunshine let me wear
Thy token rare.

Fairer for me will be the day,
Fair all the days will be,
And thy rich gift upon my breast
Will make me fair to see;
And beautiful, through all the years,
In joys and tears.

Ah come, and coming do not ask
The answering gift of mine;
Thou hast the pride of offering,
Taste now the joy divine,
And come, content to pass to-day
Empty away.