The Evening Lesson by E. W. Darling

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 15, 1863

The Evening Lesson.

By E. W. Darling

A STRANGER wandering and alone Beneath my humble roof sought rest; His look was sad his frame was worn, He seemed a feeble one at best.

When seated at the evening fire, I asked him of his former life He briefly told his tale of care, Brief span of ill with dangers rife.

For less of years than trouble bent His form that once could stand upright, And to his sallow visage lent The look of age and lack of sight.

And now said I what seek you more Or hope, or live for on this earth? For coming days must swell the score Of ills that number from your birth.

He smiled for once and calmly said My friend 'twas by the will of God, That I such recompense have had, And felt so oft his chastening rod.

I will not murmur nor complain Of judgments less than I deserve, If in this life I share my pain, I'll hope for joy in rich reserve.

Nor will I to my Maker say, Why hast thou fashioned one like me? Far sooner let the moulded clay, Refuse a vessel thus to be.

In wisdom he hath made me so, As it seemed good that I should be, And not for better well I know Could lot of mine be changed by me.

And I will do my duty here, And meekly bear his will below Nor of the future doubt or fear, But forward still with courage go.

Who led me on through dangers past And helped me every ill to bear, Will safely bring me through at last, The overcomer's crown to wear.

And well thought I a lesson's here, For every discontented one, From this poor man who lives to bear His lot without a murmuring tone.

And he hath heard the voice of him, Who says, Ye heavy laden come, The only one that can redeem, The only way that leads us home.

E. W. DARLING. Beaver, Minn.