The Day’s Work
Is anybody happier because you passed his way?
Does any one remember that you spoke to him today?
The day is almost over, and its toiling time is through.
Is there any one to utter now a kindly word of you?
Did you give a cheerful greeting to the friend who came along,
Or a churlish sort of “howdy” and then vanish in the throng?
Were you selfish, pure and simple, as you rushed along the way,
Or is someone mighty grateful for a deed you did today?
Can you say tonight in parting, with the day that’s slipping fast,
That you helped a single brother, of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said?
Does a man whose hopes were fading, now with courage look ahead?
Did you waste the day, or lose it? Was it well or sorely spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness, or a scar of discontent?
As you close your eyes in slumber, do you think that God would say,
You have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today?