STRUGGLE

We are not here to play, to dream, to drift.
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift.
Shun not the struggle, 'ts God's gift.

If in the fulfilling of the law,
I am broken, bruised and bent,
I must know, it is best so,
And be content and be content.

If i cry out for fellowship
A comrade's voice, a comrade's grip,
A hand to hold me when i slip,
An ear to heed my groan !
Renew that hour's dark ecstasy,
When all Thy waves went over me,
And thou and I, with none to see,
Were joined in fight alone.
If i demand a sheltered space
Set for me in the battle-place,
Where I at times could turn my face
A screened and welcome guest;
Decree my soul should henceforth cease
From its wild hankering after peace,
And rest in that which gives release
From the desires of rest.


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