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Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.

By The Rivulet (1871). IV. “Dismiss me not”

Thomas Toke Lynch (1818–1871)

DISMISS me not Thy service, Lord,

But train me for Thy will;

For even I in fields so broad

Some duties may fulfil;

And I will ask for no reward,

Except to serve Thee still.

How many serve, how many more

May to the service come;

To tend the vines, the grapes to store,

Thou dost appoint for some:

Thou hast Thy young men at the war,

Thy little ones at home.

All works are good, and each is best,

As most it pleases Thee;

Each worker pleases when the rest

He serves in charity:

And neither man nor work unblest

Wilt Thou permit to be.

O ye who serve, remember One

The worker’s way who trod;

He served as man, but now His throne,

It is the throne of God:

The sceptre He hath to us shown

Is like a blossoming rod.

Firm fibres of the tree of life

Hath each command of His,

And each with clustering blossoms rife

At every season is;

Bare only, like a sword of strife,

Against love’s enemies.

Our Master all the work hath done

He asks of us to-day;

Sharing His service, every one

Share too His sonship may.

Lord, I would serve and be a son;

Dismiss me not, I pray.