
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
The candle is but a simple thing.
It starts with just a bit of string.
Yet dipped and dipped with patient hand...
It gathers wax upon the strand...
Until, complete and snowy white,
It gives at last a lovely light.
Life is so like that bit of string,
Each deed we do, a simple thing.
Yet day by day if on life's strand,
We work with patient heart and hand,
It gathers joy, makes dark days bright,
And gives at last a lovely light.
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