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."