Doing God Service

Many eager feet are running,
Hither, thither, to and fro,
Hidden paths of duty shunning,
Following where others go.
Ever active, ever thinking
Of their service for the Lord,
But, if done for human notice,
“Verily they have reward.”
Work for God! How can we know it?
It may not be as we think
On the surface-but below it,
In obscurity may sink,
Hidden for a little season,
Germs of love, long sown in hope,
After patient, prayerful waiting,
May spring up a fruitful crop.
Ponder o'er our Savior's service,
Grandest, highest, holiest work!
Who can estimate its grandeur,
Where no pride could ever lurk?
Yet to men, how small and trifling,
Raising infants to His knee,
Succoring the poor and outcast,
Speaking words of sympathy.
"Binding up the broken hearted"-
Feeding hungry-drying tears!
From all social circles parted,
Working singly many years;
Spending days in seeking-saving,
Nights in prayerful solitude,
Never human honor craving,
By His Father understood.
Lowly Savior, we would follow
Only as Thou leadest on,
Lab'ring in Thy joyful sunshine,
When Thy voice dost bid us run;
Or, if love our sun should darken,
Just to concentrate its rays,
Give us grace to pause and "hearken,”
Then work on through sunless days.
Here we know not-but hereafter
All results Thou wilt reveal,
Weeping may be changed to laughter,
When all things are true and real,
In that grand divine discerning,
Mysteries will glow with light,
There in learning and unlearning
Each will know and own the right.