  I PLANNED a plan, and duly made A plan to fill one little day. Pleasure and toil were gauged and weighed, This hour for work and that for play, And each for each made room and way. I set my wilful feet to tread The wilful path self-chosen as right, Resolved to walk unhinderÈd, Nor turn to left, nor turn to right, Until the coming of the night. But interruptions all day long, And little vexing hindrances, Each weak, but all together strong, Came one by one to fret and tease, And balk my purpose, and displease. Friendship laid fetters on the noon, And fate threw sudden burdens down, And hours were short and strength failed soon, And darkness came the day to drown, Hope changed to grief and smile to frown. Then I said sadly: “All is vain; No use there is in planning aught, Labor is wasted once again, And wisdom is to folly brought, And all the day has gone for naught.” Then spoke a voice within my soul: “The day was yours, and will was free, And self was guide and self was goal, Each hour was full as hour could be— What space was left, my child, for Me? “Where was the moment in your plan For work of Mine which might not wait? The need, the wish of fellow man, The little threads of mutual fate Which touch and tangle soon or late? “These ‘hindrances’ which made you fret, These ‘interruptions,’ one by one, They were but sudden tasks I set, My errands for your feet to run, Will you disdain them, child, or shun?” Oh, blind of heart and dull of soul! I only felt, the long day through, That I was thwarted of my goal, And chafed rebelliously, nor knew The Lord had aught for me to do! Forgive me, Lord, my selfish day, Touch my sealed eyes, and bid them wake To see Thy tasks along the way, Thy errands, which my hands may take, And do them gladly for Thy sake. |
|
