HE kept his soul unspotted
As he went upon his way,
And he tried to do some service
For God's people day by day;
He had time to cheer the doubter
Who complained that hope was dead;
He had time to help the cripple
When the way was rough ahead;
He had time to guard the orphan, and
one day, well satisfied
With the talents God had given him, he
closed his eyes and died.
He had time to see the beauty
That the Lord spread all around;
He had time to hear the music
In the shells the children found;
He had time to keep repeating
As he bravely worked away:
"It is splendid to be livingIn the splendid world to-day!"
But the crowds—the crowds that hurry
After golden prizes—said
That he never had succeeded,
When the clods lay o'er his head—
He had dreamed—"He was a failure,"
they compassionately sighed,
For the man had little money in his
pockets when he died.
—Unknown.