My Work

My Work

(Selected, Author Unknown)

I come to thee, 0 Lord, for strength and patience

To do thy will;

Help me, 0 Father, in this world of duty,

My place to fill.

I may not go and labor in thy vineyard,

Where through long hours

Brave men and women toil, and from thy presses

The red wine pours.

My work at home lies with the olive branches;

My field is there —

To train them fitly for the heavenly garden

Needs all my care.

I mav not, in the woods and on the mountains,

Seek thy lost sheep —

At home a little flock of tender lambkins

'Tis mine to keep.

Thou givest us, thy servants, each our life-work;

No trumpet tone

Shall tell the nations in triumphant pealing

How mine was done.

But 'twill be much if, when the task is over,

Through grace from thee,

I give thee back, unharmed, the precious treasures

Thou gavest me.

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