If you sit down at set of sun,
And count the acts that you have done,
And counting find
One self-denying act, or word
That eased the heart of him who heard
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went
Then you may count it at day well spent.

But, if through 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 that small,
That helped one soul and nothing cost
Then count that day as worse than lost.