Poems (Hoffman)/To the Epworth League

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

TO THE EPWORTH LEAGUE.

Come, for God is calling over land and sea;
"There's a field left idle; who will work for Me?"
Someone heard the summons, someone made reply:
"I will lead Thy toilers, Master here am I."

God looks down from Heaven, human toil to scan,
Sees what work is needed in His righteous plan;
Knows what fields lie idle, feels our every need,
Sends His willing workers with the golden seed.

Thus He saw the youthful of His precious fold,
Scattering and turning from the gates of gold;
Many bright allurements leading them to sin,
In God's house no purpose that could call them in.

But His love and wisdom all our toil have planned,
Now a band of workers in His house they stand;
No more scattered idly 'midst the snares of sin,
But a little army strong to fight and win.

Strong to look up bravely with a trusting love,
Trampling wrong beneath them as they onward move;
Lifting up their banners with a joyful song,
Lifting up their brothers from the wrecks of wrong.

Sing your joyful anthems, happy Christian League,
Fear not Satan's arrows or his dark intrigue;
Though your loving service earth may not applaud
There is joy eternal in the smile of God.