MABEL S MISSION. 233
The bird in the maple was quiet,
Looking down on the fair little maid,
And listened in decorous silence, While fervently thus Mabel prayed :
More work for these too-idle fingers ;
More work for the body and brain, Some task for this God-given spirit ;
Some goal to be entered through pain, Far out on the wide burning desert,
Away over mountain and sea ; Oh show me, Lord, truly my mission
Some path that will lead me to Thee."
The bird heard the prayer, full of wonder ;
He knew of the sorrows and cares That clustered the home-shadows under,
Unheeded and trffling affairs. No shine on the commonplace duty,
To tell it was known up above ; No sign of a saintship in waiting
For Patience and hard-tested Love.
Two mother -hands nerveless and weary,
Unable their burdens to bear, As they waver and tremble and falter
Beneath the high pressure of care ; While Freddy, poor pain-smitten darling !
Breathes gently a pitiful moan, And waits in the gathering shadow
The while, in his suffering alone.
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