At Day's End
"Is anybody happier because you passed his way?
The day is almost over and its toiling is through;
Is there anyone to utter now a kindly word to you?
Does anyone remember that you spoke to him 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?
Did you waste the day, or lose it?
Was it well or sorely spent?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said?
Does, the man whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead?
Did you leave a trail of kindness, or a scar of discontent?
As you close your eyes in slumber, do you think that God will
say, you have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today?'
Edgar A. Guest
Who does his task from day to day
And meets whatever comes his way,
Believing God has willed it so,
Has found real greatness here below.
Who guards his post, no matter where,
Believing God must need him there,
Although but lowly toil it be,
Has risen to nobility.
For great and low there's but one test
'Tis that each man shall do his best.
Who works with all the strength he can
Shall never die in debt to man.
There once was an Oyster whose story I tell,
Who found that some sand was inside his shell
Just one little grain, but it gave him great pain!
For oysters have feelings, though they all seem so plain.
Now did he berate the working so fate.
Which had led him to such a deplorable state?
Did he curse out the government - call for an election,
And cry that the sea "should have given protection?"
No! He said to himself as he lay on the shelf,
"Since I cannot remove it, I'll try to improve it."
The years rolled along, as the years always do,