A PASTOR'S RETROSPECT.
Oft I see the little chapel
Where I preached in bygone years,
With the courage of a prophet,
And a faith undimmed by tears.
Where I preached in bygone years,
With the courage of a prophet,
And a faith undimmed by tears.
Ah! those golden days resplendent
With their promises of good,
When I sang as glad hosannas
As the wild birds of the wood.
With their promises of good,
When I sang as glad hosannas
As the wild birds of the wood.
For I labored, never doubting
That the seed I planted then,
Would be wrought in nobler living,
Would "uplift the hearts of men."
That the seed I planted then,
Would be wrought in nobler living,
Would "uplift the hearts of men."
But to-day the sense of failure
Is upon me as I preach,
I am saddened by the memory
Of the truths I could not teach.
Is upon me as I preach,
I am saddened by the memory
Of the truths I could not teach.
Ah! the anguish of that knowledge
As it slowly, surely grew.
When I felt the "incompleteness"
Of the work I strove to do.
As it slowly, surely grew.
When I felt the "incompleteness"
Of the work I strove to do.
For the weight of added burdens
Haunted, pressed me day by day,
Mourners I had failed to comfort.
Sinners who had turned away.
Haunted, pressed me day by day,
Mourners I had failed to comfort.
Sinners who had turned away.
Questions that I yearned to answer
Seeking vainly for the truth,
Problems that had never vexed me
In the happy days of youth.
Seeking vainly for the truth,
Problems that had never vexed me
In the happy days of youth.
Yet I know no pain is fruitless
And no work is vainly wrought,
If it serves to bring us nearer
To our Lord in deed and thought.
And no work is vainly wrought,
If it serves to bring us nearer
To our Lord in deed and thought.
And I know, despite Life's mysteries,
Secrets that must baffle man,
Naught shall mar the final victory
Of the great "Eternal Plan."
Secrets that must baffle man,
Naught shall mar the final victory
Of the great "Eternal Plan."