T lights its little lamp each night
Upon the leaf or ground,
And sheds abroad its tiny light,
Till day again comes round.
Though it is but a tiny spark,
It makes the darkness seem less dark.
So gentle deeds of kindness done,
By little hands like mine,
And kind words spoken one by one
Like to the glow-worm shine;
They shed abroad a tender light,
And make earth's brightness seem more bright.