Use me, O God, in Thy great harvest field
That stretcheth far and wide, like a wide sea.
The gatherers are so few, I fear
The precious weald will suffer loss!
O, find a place for me; a place
Where best the strength I have will tell-
It may be one the other toilers shun;
Be it a narrow sphere or wide, ‘tis well,
So that Thy work be only done.