'Mid those who were thronging the altar anigh With gifts for the Lord of light, There came a poor widow, while Jesus stood by And timidly cast in her mite. "'Tis only a little," she said with a sigh And turned from the temple away, "But no one can offer more gladly than I The little we have to pay." chorus: 'Tis only a little, yes only a little But in faith and in love it was giv'n, Though only a little, yes only a little 'Tis great in the records of heav'n. "'Tis only a little," she said to her boy, "But God has to us been so good He tells us He hears the young ravens that cry, We'll trust Him to give us our food." 'Twas only a little, the Savior looked on He saw that in love it was given, His blessings attended the deed that was done 'Twas great in the record of heav'n. (chorus) The pennies and farthings and mites as of old Abound in the church of today While shekels of silver and talents of gold Are thrown by the world away; And oft a poor widow, in love and in trust Hath laid on the altar of heav'n A mite that outweighs in God's balances just The talents the wealthy have giv'n. (chorus)