TRIM THY LAMP by Sarah Pratt McLean Greene

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 16, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 11.

TRIM THY LAMP.

By Sarah Pratt McLean Greene

Out on the shore where thy small house Stands dark, stands dark, this night, Full many a wanderer, thither tossed, Is driven on that rock and lost Where thou hast hid thy light.

Tho but a candle thou didst have, Its trimmed and growing ray Is infinite. With God no light Is great or small, but only bright, As is His perfect day.

The world hath sorrow, nothing more To give or keep for thee; Duty is in that hidden flame, And soaring joy; then rise for shame That thou so dark shouldst be.

Rise, trim thy lamp—the feeble past Behind thee put and spurn. With God it is not soon or late, So that thy light, now flaming great, Doth ever fiercer burn—

Fierce with its love, and flaming great In its humility, Shunning no soul in sinful need, Fearing no path where He may lead, Glowing consumingly.

Thou shalt not want for light enough When earthly moons grow dim; The dawn is but begun for thee, When thou shalt hand, so tremblingly, Thy empty lamp to Him.

—Sarah Pratt McLean Greene.