Come Unto me

A STILL small voice comes to me evermore, 

The while I walk life's hills and valleys o'er; 

I stay and listen for it wistfully

"Come unto Me."

I would not miss it for all sweetest sounds 

Of music with which happy earth abounds; 

The words are full of tenderest melody

"Come unto Me."

Full well I know who speaks them day by day; 

I cannot often see along the way

The Friend whose voice I love; but still he saith, 

"Come unto Me."

It is a whisper in the hush of night, 

It is the greeting of the morning light, 

And all day long I hear it thankfully 

"Come unto Me."

It is not drowned by all the noise of throngs, 

And in the peaceful sounds of even songs 

I catch the sweet words spoken tenderly 

"Come unto Me."

I am bewildered oftentimes by life,

And long to steal away from all the strife;

And then how precious the dear words can be 

"Come unto Me."



IN the name of God advancing,

Sow thy seed at morning light; 

Cheerily the furrows turning,

Labor on with all thy might. 

Look not to the far-off future,

Do the work which nearest lies; 

Sow thou must before thou reapest;

Best at last is labor's prize.