If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.

Truth is truth howe'er it strike.

What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.

Imperfection means perfection hid.

I have lived, And seen God's hand thro a life time, And all was for the best.

All service is the same with God.

Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.