Her eyes are the windows of a soul
Where only the white thoughts spring,
And they look, as the eyes of the angels look,
For the good in everything.

Her lips can whisper the tenderest words
That weary and worn can hear,
Can tell of the dawn of a better morn
Till only the cowards fear.

Her hands can lift up the fallen one
From an overthrow complete,
Can take a soul from the mire of sin
And lead it to Christ's dear feet.

And she can walk wherever she will-
She walketh never alone.
The work she does is the Master's work,
And God guards well His own.