A Faithful Warrior by MAX HILL

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Aug 10, 1905

A Faithful Warrior

By MAX HILL

MAX HILL

WHAT honor shall be due to one Who long has fought, and well, Whose race has been so nobly run, Whose greatest joy has been to tell The matchless love of One who giveth peace,

Who lived for others, shared their grief, Wept with the sad and burdened heart, Gave to the tempted ones relief, Gave balm to soothe the ache and smart Of sin-sick souls who longed to find release?

The King delights to honor him Who labors on unselfishly, Till limbs grow weak, and eyes grow dim, And toiling hands all tremblingly Still nobly strive to do the Master's will; His back stooped low with many years Of toil and travel, care and pain, His loving eyes, dimmed oft by tears Brought forth by others' guilt and stain,— And to the last all consecrated still.

Sadly we laid the warrior down,— We linger still to work and weep,— His labor done, he waits a crown,— “God giveth his beloved sleep;” It is his will who knows and loves his own.

How sweet to thus lie down to rest, To take without a doubt or fear The bed his Saviour's form has pressed When His life-work was ended here; He goes to rest, but goes not there alone.

Sleep on, dear brother! till the day When on the clouds a shining band Shall bear the ransomed ones away To dwell forever in the land Where saints shall reign throughout eternal days; Where toil is over, trials past, And sighs and tears are known no more, Where faithful saints shall meet at last To sing upon the golden shore The songs of sounding victory and praise.

College View, Neb.