OUR LORD became a servant Among the poor and sad: He toiled in weary patience With all the strength He had. With hate and with reviling His service was repaid, And all our heaviest burdens Were on His shoulders laid. He spent His life in service, Rejected, scorned, defied; And then, to save the thankless, In loving service died. If we despise true service, Or do not serve in turn, We grieve His Holy Spirit, It is Himself we spurn. Rich harvests some are reaping, Which He, the Servant, sowed, And we may help the gleaners To bear their homeward load. Here in the world's wide corn-field, If honest work we do, Will come, in Love's own accents, His 'Peace be unto you.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UPON DRINKING IN A BOWL by ANACREON IF WE MUST DIE by CLAUDE MCKAY THE LAKE (VERSION 2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE VIRGINIA - THE WEST by WALT WHITMAN WHEN I READ THE BOOK by WALT WHITMAN ORLANDO FURIOSO: CANTO 10. by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO |