The great Composer writes the theme
And gives us each a part to play.
To some a sweet and flowing air,
Smooth and unbroken all the way.
They pour their full heart’s gladness out
In notes of joy and service blent;
But some He gives long bars of rests
With idle voice and instrument.
He who directs the singing spheres,
The music of the morning stars,
Needs, for His full creation’s hymn,
The quiet of those soundless bars.
Be silent unto God, my soul,
If this the score He writes for thee,
And “hold the rest”; play no false note
To mar His perfect harmony.
Yet be thou watchful for thy turn;
Strike on the instant, true and clear,
Lest from the grand, melodious whole
Thy note be missing to His ear.
No comments:
Post a Comment