WITH willing hands and a loving heart, When the morning sun was lifted, And a firm resolve to do my part, I have drifted, sadly drifted; For the dying rays of the setting sun Have found me resting with work undone. With tired hands and an aching heart, Ere the noon-day sun shone o'er me, I had watched my failing strength depart, With the evening still before me; And the dying rays of the setting sun Behold unfinished the work begun. With folded hands and a saddened heart, I have seen the day declining, Mine eyes grow dim as the tear-drops start And I cannot still repining; For the dying rays of the setting sun Reveal my life work still undone. O nerveless hands and O stricken heart, Though blight of disease is o'er you, Though dark the night and the time seems long, Yet heaven is just before you, The work will be done though you stand and wait, When you enter at last the golden gate. Be patient, hands, and be true, O heart, And wait for the heavenly warning, Your earnest purpose will be revealed In the light of a blessed morning, And myriad voices proclaim as one, The welcome plaudit, "Well done, well done!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A COMPARISON [ADDRESSED] TO A YOUNG LADY by WILLIAM COWPER TO GOD AND IRELAND TRUE by ELLEN O'LEARY FAIRYLAND (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE A SLUMBER SONG by A. HOLCOMBE AIKEN INSCRIPTIONS: 3 by MARK AKENSIDE |