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EMPTY HANDS

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 24, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 34.

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EMPTY HANDS.

A MULTITUDE of cares encompassed me, Stood at my elbow, hung about my knee; Hedged me away from all the world outside, Thronged in my path, if to escape I tried.
And thus, from mingling with my kind, debarred, Often I mourned and felt my lot was hard; Slipped from the clinging fingers, sighed for rest, Hushed the shrill tongues and deemed the silence best.
One day God took my cares unto Himself; I need no longer toil, for love or pelf. Free am I now, to roam to far-off lands, Or sit in silence, with my empty hands.
Alone I go; as lonely I return; And none remains to feel for me concern. No noisy shouts, no clamorous tongues in glee To break the silence—all is hushed to me.
No clinging fingers clutching at my dress; No tumbled curls upon my bosom press. But now, dear Lord, if I could ope the door And know my cares would meet me as of yore, I'd give—ah, with what gladness, I would give— All the slow weary years I yet must live! I wander always—praying always vain— O Lord, dear Lord, give me my cares again! —Selected.