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CUMBERED WITH MUCH SERVING

“So busy, O so busy,” is the cry on every side, “There’s much to do, and workers few, while on the moments glide;” And weary hearts are fainting oft’ beneath their load of care; And willing hands have grown too weak the burden’s weight to bear.

“No time to rest, no time to wait for strength to be renewed, No time to tarry till the soul with power is endued; The tasks increasing every day, this life so near its close; We cannot rest,” the toilers cry, “until death brings repose!”

O burdened hearts, can it be true this is the Master’s will? Are you to labor every hour and never to be still? These vessels are so very small, our cups will not run o’er Unless we seek the fountain’s brink for filling more and more.

Take time to sit at Jesus’ feet and hear his blessed Word; Wait there, like Mary, till your soul to love’s best deed is stirred; Then break the alabaster box, and let its perfume sweet Spread with the gospel’s joyful sound, and make the earth replete!

O be not cumbered with much care,—they serve who only wait; The Lord’s command, “Go thou and work,” will never come too late. His truth must burn within your soul e’er you a task begin: For we must know our captain’s will if faith’s good fight we win.

Then come apart each weary one into a place of rest,—The flesh so weak must often seek the Rock and Shadow blest; There tarry in that silence sweet till freed from every care, And you arise, with strength renewed, for him to do and dare.

—F. G. Burroughs.

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— July 1, 1897 —