The Lord has made me bold
When I have labored most,
And with his gifts so manifold,
Has given the Holy Ghost
When I have idle been
Until the sun went down,
Mine eyes, so dim, have never seen
His bright, prophetic crown.
O, praise the Lord for work
Which maketh time so fleet,
In which accusers never lurk,
Whose end is very sweet.
* * * * *
Birds of Grace.
O little birds of grace,
To-day ye sweetly sing,
Yea, make my heart your nesting-place,
And all your gladness bring.
When ye are in my heart,
How swiftly pass the days!
The fears and doubts of life depart,
And leave their room to praise.
My work I find as play,
And all day long rejoice;
But, if I linger on my way,
I hear this warning voice:
_With fervor work and pray,
And let not coldness come,
Or birds of grace will fly away
To seek a warmer home_.
* * * * *
Duty.
O work that Duty shows
Through her revealing light!
It is in thee my bosom glows
With infinite delight!
The shadows flee away
Like mist before the sun;
And thy achievement seems to say,
The will of God is done!
Ah, what if Duty seem
A mistress cold and stern!
Can he who owns her rule supreme
From her caresses turn?
O work that Duty shows
In light so fair and clear,
Whoever thy completion knows
Is 'minded heaven is near!
* * * * *
Moses.
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