We grow in grace if day by day
We keep in mind to watch and pray,
Thus walking in the Heavenward way.
But, drifting from the guiding hand
Of Him who rules the sea and land,
We wreck ourselves on barren strand,
In name of Him who for us died,
We cry for help, when deeply tried,
Receive it, whatso’er betide.
Of good we sow some scattered seed,
We help to shield the bruised reed,
Supply to want, the urgent need.
Then once more hope to reach the goal,
For faith with works will save a soul,
Though hostile billows round it roll.
Thus tempest-tost, we struggle on;
Now sad, now cheered, till life is gone,
And trust to hear the bless’d, well done!
(Mary Eliza Ireland)
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