Above all comfort, or wealth, or gain,

'T was dear to the sisters' heart!

As babes, before they could understand,

Or ever a prayer repeat,

Each day their father had held them up,

While they kissed the carven feet.

So April came, and so April went;

And they lived, the Lord knows how!

The elder sister had saved and spared,

But the chest was empty now.

That very evening she broke in halves,

And gave to the younger two,

One piece of bread—'t was the last they had;

There was nothing more to do,

Unless, unless—and she looked at them,

And then at the image dear:

She touched it once; but her hand drew back

With a guilty, shrinking fear.

Her sisters saw, and they started up,

And they said in haste, "Not so!

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