With his own hands he helps to build a temple,
Here, in the wilds, a temple to his God,
Rough-hewn and roughly thatched, but still a house
Of prayer, a holy place, and consecrate
To Him whose noblest temples are not built
With hands, but in the opened hearts of men.
The Master worked,
With His own hands expressing
His sure belief
That therein lay God's blessing.
Thus, as he toils, with axe, and nail, and hammer,
His heart rejoices,—so the Master worked,
And by His lowly toil for ever stamped
True labour with its highest dignity.
With a will!
With a will!
With a will and surely!
Without fail,
Drive each nail,
Build we so, securely!
LIVINGSTONE'S SOLILOQUY
"My heart to-day
Is strangely full of home!
How is it
With the dear ones over there?
Five years!
Five long-drawn years!
And one short moment is enough
To alter life's complexion for eternity!
Home! Home! Home!
* * * * *
How is it with you all
At Home?
* * * * *
And you, my dearest one,
Are ever nearer to me than the rest!
Your body lies
Beneath the baobab
In far Shapanga;
But your soul is ever nearest
When I need you most.
Where a man's treasure is
His heart is.
And half my heart is buried there with you,
And half works on for Africa.
Home! Home! Home!