SELF-SURRENDER
It is so hard, at once, to yield,
And with a smiling grace;
For self to choose the lower room
In lieu of higher place.
And with a smiling grace;
For self to choose the lower room
In lieu of higher place.
It is so hard to yield the will;
The gracious word to say;
When, often, a clear judgment tells
Ours is the better way.
The gracious word to say;
When, often, a clear judgment tells
Ours is the better way.
It is so hard not to explain
The word misunderstood;
To claim the praise, the blame to lose,—
Who would not if he could?
The word misunderstood;
To claim the praise, the blame to lose,—
Who would not if he could?
'Tis hard, yet the disciple will
Surrender self each day,
If only he will pause to ask,
"What was the Master's way?"
Surrender self each day,
If only he will pause to ask,
"What was the Master's way?"
THE DAILY ROUND
The daily round of common care
Need never common be,
If sanctified by earnest prayer
And lived, O God, for thee.
Need never common be,
If sanctified by earnest prayer
And lived, O God, for thee.
The daily round a field may be
Where wheat or tares we sow;
If fed by dews from heaven above.
None but the wheat need grow.
Where wheat or tares we sow;
If fed by dews from heaven above.
None but the wheat need grow.
68
