p. 14 | Hang Not Thy Harp Upon the Willows

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 4, 1913

Hang Not Thy Harp Upon the Willows

By Mrs. L. R. Reynolds

MRS. L. R. REYNOLDS

HUSH thy complaint, sad heart! nor go hang Thy harp upon the willow-tree. I’ll sing the songs that once I sang Before affliction came to me. Though I may never march again, If others march to song I sing And I make brave the hearts of men, My weakness then would lose its sting.

Though I may not in battle-line The heat and conflict with them share, O happy lot could it be mine To chant them on to victory there! While tenting here I shall be blest If I can make my comrades strong By any helpful words expressed, Or cheer with rhythm of a song.

My simple song may not be sweet As those they sing with merrier heart. Though but a ground-bird, yet ’tis meet That I should do my little part; Some soul may need encouragement, The little help that I can give; O, then, to be God’s instrument To help that fainting one to live!

While I may feel a biting loss, And some on weakness look with scorn, If I but bravely bear my cross There’ll be for me more rose than thorn.

Hush thy complaint, sad heart! nor hang Thy harp upon the willow-tree. I’ll sing the songs that once I sang Before affliction came to me.

Wichita, Kans.