117

Service.

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John G. Whittier.
Beethoven. Arr.

1. My dear Redeemer, and my Lord!
I ready my duty in Thy word:
But in Thy Life, the law appears
Drawn out in living characters!

2. Who calls our glorious service hard?
Who deems it not its own reward?
Who for its trials, counts it less
A cause of praise and thankfulness?

3. It may not be our lot to wield
The sickle in the ripened field;
Nor ours to hear, on summer eves,
The reaper's song among the sheaves.

4. Yet when our duty's task is wrought
In unison with God's great thought,
The near and future blend in one,
And whatsoe'er is willed is done!

5. And where this life the utmost span,
The only end and aim of man,
Better the toil of fields like these
Than waking dreams and slothful ease.