Strike the chords softly - Pamelia Sarah Yule

Strike the chords softly with tremulous fingers, 

While, on the threshold of happiest years, 

For a brief moment fond memory lingers. 

Ere we go forth to life's conflicts and fears! 

Strike the chords softly! — yet no, as we tarry. 

Swiftly the morning is gliding away; 

Weary ones droop 'neath the burdens they carry, 

Toiling ones faint in the heat of the day. 

Let us not linger! — Earth's millions are crying 

"Come to us, aid us, we grope in the night! 

Come to us, aid us, we're perishing, dying — 

Give us, oh, give us, the heavenly light!"

Let us not linger! — our brethren are calling,— 

"Aid us, the harvest increases each day;— 

Some have grown weary, alas, of their toiling! — 

Others have passed from their labors away." 

Gracious Redeemer! we go at thy bidding, 

Gladly encountering peril and loss; 

Take us — ourselves to thy work we are giving, 

Give us — 'tis more than we merit— thy cross! 

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Pamelia Sarah Yule [Mrs. J. C. Yule, nee Vining] (1826 – 1897) Canada

Source: Poems of the heart and home, Mrs. J. C. Yule, Bengough, Moore & Co., 1881