He threaded his way through the crowded street
A commonplace man, though tidy and neat
The kind of man you see by the score
One glance suffices, you look no more.
Just one of the crowd in colour and size -
Unless you happened to look at his eyes.
He was one of the queue that boarded the bus.
Just part of the pattern, just one of us.
For him, there was not so much as a glance
From the girls in their finery off to the dance.
Just one of so many in collars and ties -
Unless you happened to look at his eyes.
There's someone Who knows the secret that lies
Behind the radiance of those eyes.
Inspiring in glory that light to shine
Someone could tell of a purpose divine.
He'll never tell it - his joy was in giving
(discovering, so doing, the pure joys of living)
Making a life that seemed broken worthwhile
Helping, in truth, a lame dog o'er a stile
He did not ask how much he might gain
He only saw the sorrow and pain
Which he could relieve; nor queried the price,
Nor measured the sum of his own sacrifice
Who would never achieve either fortune or fame
But the salt of the earth, all humanity's leaven
For of such, said our Lord, is the kingdom of heaven.
