[Written for the Sentinel.]

A Message from the Workshop

THOSE silent years the Master toiled,—when he,    The well-beloved, bent with patient careO'er plane and work-bench, oftentimes for me,—    God's hand marks their design.When poor and small the task seems I have wrought,    And cheerless fear-clouds darken all the fairBlue sky of hope and gladness, with the thought,    Vain is this toil of mine;How often have the comfort for my tears,    And faith to raise mine eyes to bluer skies.Come through the message of those silent years,—    Those years the Master builded, human-wise.

                                         One with eternal Mind,And true to humble tasks from day to day,    The workshop gave the Master grace to proveThat God would wisely guide him all the way,—    All through the bitter hours of CalvaryE'en to the joyous meal beside the sea,    Spread for the fishermen of Galilee.Through days of toil, he found the time to pray    That God would guide his steps eternally,And show the wondrous peace and power of Love    To heal and save mankind.

Salvation is not through Mere Belief
February 17, 1906

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.