Live for something, be not idle,
Look about thee for employ,
Sit not down to useless dreaming,--
Labor is the sweetest joy.
Folded hands are ever weary,
Selfish hearts are never gay,
Life for thee hath many duties,--
Active be, then, whilst thou may.
Scatter blessings in thy pathway!
Gentle words and cheering smiles
Better are than gold and silver,
With their grief-dispelling wiles.
As the pleasant sunshine falleth
Ever on the grateful earth,
So let sympathy and kindness
Gladden well the darkened hearth.
Hearts there are oppressed and weary,--
Drop the tear of sympathy;
Whisper words of hope and comfort;
Give, and thy reward shall be
Joy unto thy soul returning,
From this perfect fountain-head;
Freely, as thou freely givest,
Shall the grateful light be shed.