|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A candle's but a simple thing
It starts with just a bit of string
But dipped and dipped with patient hand
It gathers wax upon the strand
Until complete and snowy white
It gives at last a lovely light
Life seems so like that piece of string
Each deed we do, a simple thing
Yet day by day, if on life's strand
We work with patient heart and hand
It gathers joy, makes dark days bright
And gives at last, a lovely light.
|
|
|
|
|
|
