Shall This Life of Mine Be Wasted?

Shall this life of mine be wast­ed?

Shall this vine­yard lie un­tilled?

Shall true joy pass by un­tast­ed

And this soul re­main un­filled?

Shall the God-giv­en hours be scat­tered

Like the leaves upon the plain?

Shall the blos­soms die un­watered

By the drops of heav­en­ly rain?

Shall I see each fair sun wak­ing

And not feel

it wakes for me?

Each glad morn­ing

bright­ly break­ing

And not feel

it breaks for me?

Shall I see the ros­es blow­ing

And not wish to bloom as they?

Holy frag­rance round me throw­ing

Luring oth­ers on the way.

Shall I hear the free bird sing­ing

In the sum­mer’s stain­less sky

Far aloft its glad flight wing­ing

And not seek to soar as high?

Shall this heart still spend its trea­sures

On the things that fade and die;

Shall it court the hol­low plea­sures

Of be­wil­der­ing van­ity?

Shall these lips of mine be idle;

Shall I op­en them in vain?

Shall I not with God’s own brid­le

Their fri­vol­ities re­strain?

Shall these eyes of mine still wan­der?

Or

no long­er turned afar

Fix a firm­er gaze and fon­der

On the bright and morn­ing Star?

Shall these feet of mine

de­lay­ing

Still in ways of sin be found

Braving snares and mad­ly stray­ing

On the world’s be­witch­ing ground?

No

I was not born to tri­fle

Life away in dreams or sin!

No

I must not

dare not sti­fle

Longings such as these with­in!

Swiftly mov­ing

up­ward

on­ward

Let my soul in faith be borne;

Calmly gaz­ing

sky­ward

sun­ward

Let my eye un­blink­ing turn!

Where the cross

God’s love re­veal­ing

Sets the fet­tered spir­it free

Where it sheds its won­drous heal­ing

There my soul

thy rest shall be.

Then no long­er id­ly dream­ing

Shall I fling my years away;

But

each pre­cious hour re­deem­ing

Wait for the eter­nal day!