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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, December 31, 1867

LIFE'S AIMS.

An earnest, faithful laborer in thy vineyard, Lord, I fain would be, Gathering and garnering with swift, willing hands Rich fruits for thee; Sowing broad fields with seeds of truth and righteousness; Reaping blest harvests of immortal joy and peace; Coming each eve with humble heart and penitence For sins of mine, And bringing such offerings as thou dost accept With love divine.

Once I believed that human love or worldly fame Might yield pure joy; But, testing these, I've found, alas! in each of them, The base alloy; Have found that love is but a fragile, fading flower; Have found that fame, however bright, dies in an hour; Have learned the vanity of pleasure, pomp and power! All these have failed To satisfy the aspirations of my soul; But now, unveiled, Mine eyes a fount of joy above them all behold!

Now life's ambition is to add some sweetness to Each cup of woe, And over Doubt's despair, or Grief's deep-gathering glooms God's light to throw! God's blessed light, which, when my way was dark as night, Because I would not “walk by faith,” but must have “sight,” Illumed my soul with love, and led my feet aright. I would now share These gracious gifts with others—would have them also learn Each cross to bear With meekness, for the sake of God's dear Saviour Son?

I would go forth each morn with eager, hope-shod feet, And seek to find Some proud, rebellious, faithless heart—most like my own— Wretched and blind, Groping its way through labyrinths of doubt and sin, Searching in vain for good 'mid earthly pleasure's din, Yet finding all without unreal, all corrupt within.

I would go plead With such a heart to cast away its stubborn pride, And own its need Of the Redeemer's all-atoning, precious blood.

I would go tell the “weary,” “heavy-laden” ones Who'll give them “rest;” And breathe into the ear of waning, faltering faith, Some promise blest, And cheer the chastened ones with words of hope and love. Thus would I labor, Lord, for thee, if thou approve.

Yet am I all too prone to stray away myself; Too weak and frail To keep my wayward self “unspotted from the world,” And e'er must fail To lead a fellow-wanderer back to thee— Unless, my Father, thou shalt aid and strengthen me, And teach me how to teach of grace and pardon free.