It was but a word, a little word,

But it soothed like a healing balm;

It was but a word of kindliness,

But is seemed like a joyous psalm;

For it healed a weary, aching heart

That burden was, and sad;

And it brightened all, like the beaming sun,

For it make the spirit glad.

Like the golden gates of the dawn of day

Its gentle accents seemed,

And the sky grew bright with a silver light

To the soul that had sadness dreamed.

Did it cost you much, did it spend your coin—

This balm that the spirit stirred?

No! your own spirit glowed like the beaming sun;

As you spoke that loving word.

The Youth’s Instructor, June 4, 1903.