[Papercut Press Publishing]1997-09-16 - A Poem by Jane C. Simpson

If ever I have caused a tear
To dim another's eye,
If ever hath been heaved through me
The heart-subduing sigh;

If ever a word or look of mine,
In haste or anger given,
Hath stung to pain another's soul,
I pardon ask of Heaven.

To pluck the thorns from other's path,
And plant it o'er with flowers,
To pour perpetual sunshine round,
Can ne'er, alas! Be ours:

But thousand little deeds of love,
Each day, each hour, may send
A thrill of joy to glad the eye
And bosom of a friend.

A gentle smile, a tender tone,
A glance of kindly ray.
Than wealth or fame more worth have owned,
To smoothe life's wint'ry way:

We cannot shower our health or gold
On all we hold most dear,
Yet many wiles affection hath
To chase the rising tear!

And oh! If ever deed of mine,
Or accent rightly spoken,
Hath helped to cheer another's soul
By silent sorrow broken;

If e'er another's heart hath beat
More glad and warm and free;
If e'er another's eye hath caught
A happier light from me;

A tenfold sum of grateful praise
To thee my soul would give,
Oh thou Eternal Source of good,
By whom we love and live.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Tim