Poem February 16, 1946 Issue

Reward

ALAN W. THWAITES

Lone singer by the way,
Never withhold your song,
Though none may seem to hear
From out the passing throng.

Lone climber of the mount,
Let not your purpose fail,
Though never human lips
Your high achievements hail.

God hears your every song,
He sees each foothold won;
No other prime you need
Than His reward. "Well done."

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