“ I’LL STAY WHERE YOU PUT ME" I’ll stay where you’ve put me; I will, dear Lord, Though I wanted so badly to go; I was eager to march with the rank and the file, Yes, I wanted to lead them, you know, I planned to keep in step with the music loud, To cheer when the banner unfurled. To stand in the midst of the fight, straight and proud, But I’ll stay where you’ve put me. I’ll stay where you've put me; I'll work, dear Lord, Though the field be narrow and small, And the ground be fallow, and the stones lie thick, And there seems to be no life at all. The field is thine own, only give me the seed, I’ll sow it with never a fear; I’ll till the dry soil while I wait for the rain. And rejoice when the green blades appear; I'll work, where you’ve put me. I’ll stay where you’ve put me; I will, dear Lord; I’ll bear the days’ burdens and heat, Always trusting thee fully; when even’ has come, I’ll lay heavy sheaves at thy feet. Then, when my earth’s work is ended and done, In the light of eternity’s glow, Life’s record all closed, I surely shall find It was better to stay than to go; I’ll stay where you’ve put me. TILL THE TIDE COMES IN A little child was playing by the shore of a broad blue sea And oft he looked away across the waves, so wonderingly; It was a new entrancing sight to him, that watery waste,
The tossing billows breaking on the sands would foam . . . wreaths graced: And often in his distant inland home, with childish glee, The boy would say to young and old friends; " I’ve seen the sea.” And so he had; the child made no mistake, his words were true; But yet, how much of ocean’s vast expanse had met his view? Only the waves that ripple down the shore; while far away The broad Pacific in its depth and strength beyond him lay. And thus we say we know the love of Christ; and so we do; ’Tis no exaggeration or mistake, but sweetly true. But ah! How much of that un fathomed love do we yet know? Only the ripples on the shores of time, the nearer flow The mighty ocean of redeeming love rolls deep and wide Filling eternity and Heaven and earth with its vast tide. We know it by a sweet experience now; yet shall explore Its breadth and length, its depth and height of grace, forever more. CLEAN HANDS Once, in my childhood days long gone and dead, I watched a supper table being spread By busy hands: and eagerly I said, Wishing to help, "Please, may I bring the bread?” Gently, reprovingly, a kind voice said: “Are your hands clean?” Oft, when I see the multitude, unfed, And waiting hungry for living bread, My heart and hands are eager to be spent To bring the manna that they may be fed, But one Voice says, e’en as a voice once said, “Are your hands clean?” I only bow my head.
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