GO ON by Mary Martin

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 8, 1878

GO ON.

By Mary Martin

In the ages past,—the long ago, When our Saviour wandered here below,— As the heavy cross he fainting bore, He paused by a humble artisan’s door. And begged for rest on his bench of stone, But he rudely said, “Go on, go on.” The Saviour turned away from the spot, From one of “his own” who “received him not,” And said, essaying the mount to climb, “Thou shalt go on to the end of time.” The rolling centuries went and came, With their weight of woe no tongue may name, As he traversed the earth from pole to pole, No moment’s respite for body or soul; And he sighed for rest with sob and moan, But the mocking echoes said, “Go on.” Whether the legend be false or true, Hence comes the name of the Wandering Jew.

To thee, O idler by life’s highway, These weighty words come home to-day; Wilt thou tarry still ’mid the fading leaves, When the golden harvest’s ungathered sheaves Await thy coming with sickle drawn?— Gird thee for labor;—go on, go on.

Weary watcher with care bowed low, Humbly seeking the way to know, O list to the words, for in love they come From the mansions fair in the Father’s home: “Time’s night shall fade, eternity dawn, Thy rest is sure;—go on, go on.”

Worn heart, I know, for thy works will tell, Thou hast labored, nor fainted, and this is well; But I know thy works will also prove; Thou hast left thy first, thy early love. From whence thou hast fallen, so tempted and torn, Arise and repent, and go on, go on.

Thou who hast taken the sword and shield, For the cause of truth in the Master’s field, Does thy heart grow faint as the legions rise To keep thee back from the heavenly prize? There’s a starry crown to be lost or won, It may soon be thine;—go on, go on.

Whoe’er thou art, whatever thy part In this strange dark world may be, Though thou weepest now thou’lt rejoice one day, That the words ever came to thee. Though the way may be rough, it is ever enough To know who before us has gone, There’ll be rest by and by in the mansions on high, Then let us arise and go on.

MARY MARTIN.