It isn�t the thing you do; It�s the thing you leave undone Which gives you a bit of heartache At the setting of the sun.
The tender word forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The flower you might have sent,
Are your haunting ghosts tonight.
The little acts of kindness,
So easily out of mind;
Those chances to be helpful
Which everyone may find �
No, it�s not the thing you do,
It�s the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bit of heartache,
At the setting of the sun.
MARGARET E. SANGSTER
