"And I should fear, but lo! amid the press,
The whirl and hum and pressure of my day,
I hear thy garments sweep, thy seamless dress,
And close beside my work and weariness
Discern thy gracious form, not far away,
But very near, O Lord, to help and bless.
"The busy fingers fly; the eyes may see
Only the glancing needle which they hold;
But all my life is blossoming inwardly,
And every breath is like a litany;
While through each labor, like a thread of gold,
Is woven the sweet consciousness of thee."
There are duties in every life that are irksome. Young people
sometimes find school work dull. There are faithful mothers who many a
day grow weary of the endless duties of the household. There are good
men who tire ofttimes of the routine of office, or store, or mill, or
farm. There comes to most of us, at times, the feeling that what we
have to do day after day is not worthy of us. We have had glimpses, or
brief experiences, of life in its higher revealings. It may have been
a companionship for a season with one above us in experience or
attainment, that has lifted us up for a little time into exalted
thoughts and feelings, after which it is hard to come back again to the
old plodding round, and to the old, uninteresting companionships. It
may have been a visit to some place or to some home, with
opportunities, refinements, inspirations, privileges, above those which
we can have in our own narrower surroundings and plainer home and less
congenial intimacies.
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