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A WORKER'S PRAYER

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 30, 1901

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 27, No. 5.

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A WORKER'S PRAYER.

If there be good in that I wrought, Thy hand compelled it, Master, Thine; Where I have failed to meet Thy thought, I know thru Thee the blame is mine.
One instant's toil to Thee denied Stands all eternity's offense; Of that I did with Thee to guide, To Thee, thru Thee, be excellence,
Who, lest all thought of Eden fade, Bring'st Eden to the craftsman's brain, Godlike to muse o'er his own trade, And manlike stand with God again.
The depth and dream of my desire, The bitter paths wherein I stray, Thou knowest who has made the fire, Thou knowest who has made the clay.
One stone the more swings to her place In that dread temple of Thy worth; It is enough that thru Thy grace I saw naught common on Thy earth.
Take not that vision from my ken; O, whatsoe'er may spoil or speed, Help me to need no aid from men, That I may help such men as need!
—Selected.