Is Thy Cruse of Comfort Wasting?

Is thy cruse of com­fort wast­ing?

Rise

and with thy bro­ther share.

And through all the years of fa­mine

On its boun­ty ye shall fare.

Love di­vine will fill thy store­house

Or thy hand­ful still re­new;

Scanty fare for one will oft­en

Make a roy­al feast for two.

For the heart grows rich in giv­ing;

All its wealth is liv­ing grain;

Seeds

which mil­dew in the gar­ner

Scattered

fill with gold the plain.

Is thy bur­den hard and hea­vy?

Do thy steps drag wea­ri­ly?

Help to bear thy bro­ther’s bur­den;

God will bear both it and thee.

Numb and wea­ry on the mount­ains

Wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow?

Chafe the froz­en form be­side thee

And to­ge­ther both shall grow.

Art thou strick­en in life’s bat­tle?

Many wound­ed round thee moan;

Lavish on their wounds thy bal­sams

And that balm shall heal thine own.

Is the heart a well left emp­ty?

None but God its void can fill;

Nothing but a cease­less fount­ain

Can its cease­less long­ings still.

Is the heart a liv­ing pow­er?

Self en­twined

its strength sinks low;

It can on­ly live in lov­ing

And by serv­ing love will grow.