By ALICE C. JENNINGS.
Strive not to fill an angel’s part
Without an angel’s wing:
But, as it is, thy human heart
To God, thy Maker, bring.
His patience never doth abate
Howe’er we sin and fall;
Be patient with thyself, and wait
Till patience conquers all.
Grieve never that thy daily task
A homely outline shows;
For bulbs unsightly oft may mask
The sweetest flower that blows.
The work so light-esteemed may gain
A place, and claim a power
That works far grander seek in vain,
Though unto heaven they tower.
Look not without for blame or praise,
Look upward and within:
And, through the swift-revolving days,
With each, thy task begin.
And lo! as grows the kingly tree,
By force of inward might,
Thy life, to those around shall be
Majestic, strong and bright.
With patience work—with gladness, love,
Nor seek results to scan:
Who works, but will not wait, must prove
A discord in God’s plan.
Let body, mind, and soul, and will
To labor be addressed—
Press thou with courage onward still
And leave to him the rest.