Our life is long--Not so wise Angels say,
Who watch us waste it, trembling while they weigh
Against eternity one squandered day.
Our life is long--Not so the Saints protest,
Filled full of consolation and of rest:
"Short ill, long good, one long unending best."
Our life is long--Christ's word sounds different:
"Night cometh: no more work when day is spent."
Repent and work to-day, work and repent.
Lord, make us like Thy Host, who day nor night
Rest not from adoration, their delight,
Crying "Holy, Holy, Holy," in the height.
Lord, make us like thy Saints who wait and long
Contented: bound in hope and freed from wrong
They speed (may be) their vigil with a song.
Lord, make us like Thyself, for thirty-three
Slow years of toil seemed not too long to Thee
That where Thou art there Thy Beloved might be.