1466.
[Whether Thy little flock we feed]
Which of you, having a servant plowing, &c.
—xvii. 7, 8.
Whether Thy little flock we feed,
Or follow, Lord, the gospel plough,
Patience, as well as faith, we need,
And must not ask our wages now,
Howe'er impatient nature say
“Go, triumph first, and then obey.”
Weary, with thirst and hunger faint,
From labouring in Thy field I come,
Thy sweet refreshing grace I want,
Unready for my heavenly home,
I long Thy promises to prove,
And banquet on Thy perfect love.
Yet O, a time I dare not set,
Or now demand to sup with Thee:
Still on my Lord I humbly wait,
If still Thou use my ministry;
In hunger, weariness, and thirst,
'Tis fit I serve my Master first.
Then let me patiently attend
The leisure of my heavenly Lord,
Till Thou in mercy condescend
To comfort by Thy hallowing word,
And raise me weeping at Thy feet,
At table with the King to sit.
After I have endured awhile,
After I have Thy pleasure done,
Thy love shall recompense my toil,
Thy love my patient faith shall crown,
And then I enter into rest,
And then on Thy perfection feast.
