NOT MINE
It is not mine to run, with eager feet,
Along life's crowded ways, my Lord to meet.
It is not mine to pour the oil and wine
Or bring the purple robe and linen fine.
It is not mine to break at his dear feet
The alabaster box of ointment sweet.
It is not mine to bear his heavy cross,
Or suffer, for his sake, all pain and loss.
It is not mine to walk through valleys dim,