There's pleasure in the sunshine
That sleeps on the hill;
In the fall of the water;
In the leap of the rill;
In the leaves that are stirring
By the breath of the wind:
But nowhere such pleasure
As in words that are kind.

The bright clouds that cover
The cerulean skies,
And the autumn's sweet sunset -
How dear to the eyes!
But brighter and dearer
The affectionate mind,
That scatters, like sunshine,
The words that are kind.

I love the calm waters,
The sky and the earth:
The morning that bringeth
Creation to birth;
Sweet bloom and rare beauty
I everywhere find:
But these are as phantoms
To words that are kind.

Oh! lift the dark mantle
That shadows the heart;
And the sunshine of pleasure
To the wretched impart:
When sorrow is pressing,
Be ready to bind
With the love of pure virtue,
And words that are kind.