A Contrast

The generous soul dispenses love, and light, 
   Freely on all, unpressed and unconstrained 
   Still flowing out, its fount is never drain'd;
Even as the sun, that from its golden height 
Warms all beneath its radiance pure and bright, 
   With beat exhaustless, light that never waned, 
   Whereby all life and beauty are sustained.
The selfish heart is like the unfeeling flint,
   Its fire locked up in chambers of cold stone;
Yielding no goodly spark, but by the dint 
   And clash, of hard and labored strokes alone;
And what it gives, it gives with niggard stint 
   Then soon sinks back into its old repose
As if its springs of Love were altogether froze.