How fine it is at night to say: <br />'I have not wronged a soul to-day. <br />I have not by a word or deed, <br />In any breast sowed anger's seed, <br />Or caused a fellow being pain; <br />Nor is there on my crest a stain <br />That shame has left. In honor's way, <br />With head erect, I've lived this day.' <br /> <br />When night slips down and day departs <br />And rest returns to weary hearts, <br />How fine it is to close the book <br />Of records for the day, and look <br />Once more along the traveled mile <br />And find that all has been worth while; <br />To say: ' In honor I have toiled; <br />My plume is spotless and unsoiled.' <br /> <br />Yet cold and stern a man may be <br />Retaining his integrity; <br />And he may pass from day to day <br />A spirit dead, in living clay, <br />Observing strictly morals, laws, <br />Yet serving but a selfish cause; <br />So it is not enough to say: <br />'I have not stooped to shame to-day!' <br /> <br />It is a finer, nobler thought <br />When day is done and night has brought <br />The contemplative hours and sweet, <br />And rest to weary hearts and feet, <br />If man can stand in truth and say: <br />'I have been useful here to-day. <br />Back there is one I chanced to see <br />With hope newborn because of me. <br /> <br />'This day in honor I have toiled; <br />My shining crest is still unsoiled; <br />But on the mile I leave behind <br />Is one who says that I was kind; <br />And someone hums a cheerful song <br />Because I chanced to come along.' <br />Sweet rest at night that man shall own <br />Who has not lived his day alone.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-finer-thought/
