"I cannot do much," said a little star,
"To make the dark world bright;
My silver beams cannot struggle far
Through the folding gloom of night:
But I am a part of God's great plan,
And I'll cheerfully do the best that I can."
"What is the use," said a fleecy cloud,
"Of these dew-drops that I hold?
They will hardly bend the lily proud,
Though caught in her cup of gold;
Yet I am a part of God's great plan,
My treasures I'll give as well as I can."
A child went merrily forth to play,
But a thought, like a silver thread,
Kept winding in and out all day
Through the happy, busy head,
"Mother said, 'Darling, do all you can,
For you are a part of God's great plan.'"
So she helped a younger child along,
When the road was rough to the feet;
And she sang from her heart a little song,
A song that was passing sweet;
And her father, a weary, toil-worn man,
Said, "I too will do the best that I can."