One by one, not halting,
Pressing upward still,
Of pure gold I find them,
When my own, His will.
Pressing upward still,
Of pure gold I find them,
When my own, His will.
One by one, each morrow,
Some are left below;
One by one I mount them,
Upward, upward go.
Some are left below;
One by one I mount them,
Upward, upward go.
For, by faith, I follow
Up the golden stair
One who every trial
Does, by loving, share.
Up the golden stair
One who every trial
Does, by loving, share.
GIFTS I MAY GIVE
A ready, gentle, helpful hand;
A patient ear to understand;
A heart to sympathize with each;
A life that shall, unconscious, teach;
God grant that I may richer be
In sharing gifts He gives to me.
A patient ear to understand;
A heart to sympathize with each;
A life that shall, unconscious, teach;
God grant that I may richer be
In sharing gifts He gives to me.
THE LINES BETWEEN
We're prone to be too hasty, with careless glance we scan
The page of life as written by every brother man;
We note the faults of accent, that rhythm rings not true,
The page of life as written by every brother man;
We note the faults of accent, that rhythm rings not true,
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