Count that Day Lost

If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went –
Then you may count that day well spent

But if, though all the livelong day,
You’ve cheered no heart, by yea or nay –

If, through it all
You’ve nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face –
No act most small

That helped some soul and nothing cost –
Then count that day as worse than lost.