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 kindThat fell like sunshine where it went

--Then you may count that day well spent.

But if, through all the livelong day,

You've cheered no heart, by yea or nay

--If, through it allYou'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.

by George Eliot