December 10
TO-MORROW
“Go to now, ye that say, To day or to morrow we will . . .
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.”—
St. James iv. 13, 14.
To-morrow shall my hand repair
The breaches in this house of dust,
When doubt is growing to despair
And I have nought whereon to trust?
To-morrow, did the Master say,
Come to me or whene'er thou wilt,
And do not trouble if to-day
Is burdened by a crushing guilt?
To-morrow shall I ask for grief
The comfort which is offered now,
Or take for sickness the relief
Which then no Mercy may allow?
To-morrow shall I fly the doom
Which overshadows all my way,
And breeds within a greater gloom,
When pardon comes to me to-day?
To-morrow shall I hope for life
When death is knocking at my heart,
And earth and heaven itself seem rife
With judgment that will not depart?
To-morrow shall I take the Hand
Outstretched to be my strength and stay,
And then wash off the bitter brand
When Love were cleansing me to-day?
