IN a napkin smooth and white,
Hidden from all mortal sight,
My one talent lies tonight.

Mine to hoard, or mine to use,
Mine to keep, or mine to lose ;
May I not do what I choose ?

Ah! the gift was only lent,
With the Giver's known intent
That it should be wisely spent.

And I know He will demand
Every farthing at my hand,
When I in His presence stand.

What will be my grief and shame
When I hear my humble name,
And cannot repay His claim !

Some will double what they hold ;
Others add to it tenfold,
And pay back in shining gold.

Lord, O teach me what to do !
I would faithful be and true ;
Still the sacred trust renew.

Help me, ere too late it be,
Something now to do for thee ;
Thou who hast done all for me!