When eve is slowly nearing we may ask:
Is there for us to do another task?
Oh yes, there is! - although the light may dim,
There is still light enough to work for Him.
Old age’s light is so subdued a light,
But shines for God Almighty twice as bright,
By it His glory is yet more increased
When youthful energy and vigor ceased.
Rage not against the eve - friend do not rage
Against promotion to a bigger stage,
Where the Lord critic will not reprimand
The absence of metaphor’s shade and slant.
Beyond the mist you may perhaps hear bells,
That softly ring: "friend sing now somewhere else”
But practise well your tunes before you bring
Your talents’ fruit before auditioning.
Where critics will not tear and pluck apart
Your lovely song, your masterpiece of art;
The Poet Judge might say: “encore! encore!
I love it so, - please sing forever more!”
But practise well to sing upon that stage,
In realms that remotest spheres engage,
To carry songs of praise from age to age.
Rehearse, prepare, refine, but do not rage.
Meanwhile rage not against the dimming light,
But neither fear the evening nor night,
Much is to do yet, - let the Lord take care!
Be bold, and trusting Him, sing on and dare!
