What have I done for my soul today?
Have I given a helping hand?
Have I cheered my comrade on his way?
No—I did not understand
The wistful look in his eager eye.
I nodded at him and passed him by.
What have I done for my soul today?
When I drove thru the crowded square,
I saw a woman in ragged array,
Her face grim, and toilworn with care
She was my friend in the long ago;
I turned away—the world needn't know.
What have I done for my soul today?
When a lad asked a bit of advice,
I yelled at him in a surly way,
But now I am paying the price.
My errant soul has returned to ask,
Is kindness such a stupendous task?
What do I do for my soul each day?
Do I try to understand
The common need of the common clay,
That is shaped by the master hand?
Do I dwarf my soul by a heedless deed,
Or is loyal service and love my creed?
