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Above and Below

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Feb 13, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 7.

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Above and Below

By James Russell Lowell

O dwellers in the valley land, Who in deep twilight grope and cower, Till the slow mountain's dial hand Shorten to noon's triumphal hour, While ye sit idle, do ye think The Lord's great work sits idle too? That light dare not o'erleap the brink Of morn, because 'tis dark with you?
Tho yet your valleys skulk in night, In God's ripe fields the day is cried, And reapers, with their sickles bright, Troop, singing, down the mountainside. Come up, and feel what health there is In the frank Dawn's delighted eyes, As, bending with a pitying kiss, The night-shed tears of Earth she dries!
The Lord wants reapers. O, mount up, Before night comes, and says, "Too late!" Stay not for taking scrip or cup; The Master hungers while ye wait. 'Tis from these heights alone your eyes The advancing spears of day can see, That o'er the eastern hilltops rise, To break your long captivity.
  • James Russell Lowell.