  “LORD, we have toiled all day and taken naught.” Thus spoke the fishers by the darkling sea, While the dusk deepened, and the shadows drew Over the desert sand-dunes and the blue Waters of Galilee. “What shall we do, Lord?” And the Master said: “Spread sail, and let the breeze of evening waft To the deep seas; quit the familiar shore, And let your nets down fearlessly once more, As for a certain draught.” Lord, we have toiled in vain, even as these, Dragging our nets unfruitful waters through; Not one poor fish rewards our pains all day, And, like the twelve of old, we come and say, “Master, what shall we do?” And still for us, as then, the answer sounds, Making the very hearts within us leap: “Leave the safe shallows where the ripples play, The sluggish inlet and confining bay— Push out into the deep. “Strain toward the mighty ocean of God’s love, His great Love’s all unfathomed energies, Where never plummet reached or bound was set. Quit ye like valiant fishermen, and let Your nets down in deep seas. “Those rich, rewarding waters shall not fail, Till the nets break the fish shall crowd therein; And I, the Master, waiting other where, Will lend My strength to land the precious fare Which ye have toiled to win.” Lord, Thou hast spoken, and we trust Thy word; We will push out and leave the safe, known land, And count it full reward if, coming back Laden at nightfall, o’er the waters black We see Thee on the strand. |
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