The Servant Of The Lord Poem by Janet Hamilton

Servant of God! thy soul's pure spring of life
Disturb, defile not, with unholy strife;
Gentle to all, as it becomes thee well;
For what wert thou, ere dews of mercy fell
Upon thy lifeless soul? From gracious heaven
To thee were life, and power, and pardon given;
'Freely thou hast received,' oh 'freely give.'
Be ever apt to teach; why should'st thou live
Alone aloof, when vice and ignorance stalk
Abroad with blushless cheek, crossing thy walk
With frequent horrors? Teach, and pray, and strive,
And work with heaven in saving souls alive;
Patient with men, and patient 'neath the rod,
For He who chastens is thy Father, God.
Meekly instruct; God will thy work approve,
And haters of the truth shall learn to love
And own her sway, while bright through contrite tears,
Hope, smiling, points to heaven's eternal years.
How high the honour! how supreme the joy!
How great the gain! How blessed to destroy
The snares of Satan, teach the slaves of sin
To break their chains, and life and freedom win;
Thy slaves no more, dread author of all ill!
No more thy captives, taken at thy will.