Poem July 31, 1948 Issue

EXEMPLAR

Lily Gray

What may Thy servant do this day, dear Lord,
To win a weary traveler to Thy door?
Shall I go forth with more than Samson's might
To capture Philistines, a hundred score?

Shall I with clever tongue beguile a man,
Lead him by twisted paths towards the dawn?
Shall human will teach me to drive Thy lambs,
To hedge their pathway in with briar and thorn?

Not so, My child. Thou shalt not strive nor cry;
Thou shall not lead nor drive My lambkins home,
But follow joyfully the Shepherd's voice.
And home with thee the hungry flocks shall come.

Lily Gray

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