Poems (Helen Jenkins)/Our Mischief-Maker

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OUR MISCHIEF-MAKER.
Dear Mira is my gleeful girl,—
My merry, sunny-hearted pearl.
Who would not laugh, must be a churl,
 At her mimicry and fun;
And yet, when love or need demands,
Who has more helpful, willing hands,
More bravely in life's conflict stands
 Till victory is won?

For much we prize an earnest will
The simplest duties to fulfill.
Mere words, not deeds, our spirits chill—
 The winepress, Jesus trod!
We all, in humblest words and ways,
May chant our lowly, trustful lays,
Our songs of gratitude and praise,
 Close in the ear of God.

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