Servants of His who patient stand,
In God's full heav'nly armor clad,
His strength is yours in heart and hand,
Yours is His joy when earth seems sad.
Beyond the cloud, the silver rim
Shows where the sun is shining through;
The cloud that seems the light to dim
Will fall as heaven's refreshing dew.
To melt the hard earth's stubborn sod
We needs must rake, and dig, and plough,—
Thus rid the earth of every clod,
And God's most gracious hour is now.
The golden harvest doth appear,
If we but lift our eyes above;
Then are the earth-clouds dark and drear
All scattered by our Father's love.
The very chords that jangled most
Resolve into those sweetest chimes,—
Thou hast been faithful at thy post.
In storm or shine, we know our times
Are in Thy hands, almighty Love!
Poems
[Written for the Journal.]
WORKERS WITH GOD
From the October 1904 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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