The Clod and the Pebble / William Blake

 

"Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."

So sung a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to Its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

Julia A Fletcher Carney / Little Things

Little drops of water,

 Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean

And the beauteous land

And the little moments,

Humble though they may be, 

make the mighty ages

 Of eternity.

Little deeds of kindness,

 little words of love,

Make our earth an Eden,

like the heaven above.

So our little errors

Lead the soul away,

 From the paths of virtue

 Into sin to stray.

 Little seeds of mercy

 Sown by youthful hands,

Grow to bless the nations

Far in heathen lands.