To persevere unto the very end,
To leave no work unfinished, none untried
That duty seems my willing hands to send;
That my most earnest efforts be applied
When wisdom sends me forth to fare alone
T' uproot the tangle in life's garden grown—
This, my desire.
To laugh with those who leap along the way,
To sorrow with the languishing who mourn,
To sing His praises through the darkest day,
Thus cheering the world-weary, the forlorn;
And when the night shuts down, steadfast to stand
Beside the drooping eye, the heavy hand—
This, my desire.
To lift the eyes when footsteps lagging seem,
To bear a brother's burden, glad and strong;
To fear, to care for, naught within the dream
Save how present the right, destroy the wrong;
To live that angels may inhabit, too,
This consciousness (my home) kept pure and true—
This, my desire!
