If you sit down at set of sun,
And count the acts that you have done,
And counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word,
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind,
That fell like sunshine where it went——
Then you may count that day well spent,
But if through all the livelong day,
You’ve cheered no heart, by yea or nay——
If, through it all
You’ve nothing done that you can trace,
That brought the sunshine to one face——
No act most small.
Then count that day as worse than lost。