The Missionary

The candle of his faith, unwavering, bright,

In glowing bids the darkling doubt take flight;

Dispels the shadow of the albatross

Of bleak discouragement ... He views the cross

Upon a hill ... and hears the Master's word:

"Be thou my voice to those who have not heard

My truths." In sandals of humility

And robed in selfless love, compassionately

While shepherding the flock, he golden-threads

The days for other shepherds ... Softly treads

An angel by his side--His Father knows!

Counting the hours by blessings, not by woes,

He pushes onward till his day is done

When lamps of God appearing, one by one,

Speak, "Peace!" Sweet is his rest companioning

With quietude what well-spent moments bring.

There comes a still, small voice, a lyric call:

"The greatest is the servant unto all."