If no kindly thought or word
We can give, some soul to bless,
If our hands, from hour to hour,
Do no deeds of gentleness;
If to lone and weary ones
We no comfort will impart--
Tho' 'tis summer in the sky,
Yet 'tis winter in the heart!
If we strive to lift the gloom
From a dark and burdened life;
If we seek to lull the storm
Of our fallen brother's strife;
If we bid all hate and scorn
From the spirit to depart--
Tho' 'tis winter in the sky,
Yet 'tis summer in the heart!