Sometimes, from the far-away,
Wing a little thought to me;
In the night or in the day,
It will give a rest to me.
I have praise of many here,
And the world gives me renown;
Let it go — give me one tear,
‘ Twill be a jewel in my crown.
What care I for earthly fame?
How I shrink from all its glare!
I would rather that my name
Would be shrined in some one's prayer.
Many hearts are all too much,
Or too little in their praise;
I would rather feel the touch
Of one prayer that thrills all days.