COMPOSED FOR A DONATION GATHERING.

The armies of Isr'el round Mount Sinai stood,
And heard, 'midst its thunders, the voice of their God;
All silent and awe-struck they heard the command—
"Bring unto the Lord the first fruits of your land."
These words are as sacred, their import the same—
As when they came pealing through Sinai's dread flame,—
The banner of Jesus should soon be unfurled,
And waving in triumph all over the world.
Salvation's glad tidings! Oh send them abroad!
And tell the poor pagan that there is a God!
Let those who are toiling in dark heathen lands,
Find Christians all ready to strengthen their hands.
Yet let not your gifts and your offerings all roam;—
Remember the servant of Jesus at home;
He's spending his strength and his life in the cause,—
From wells of salvation pure water he draws.
The wells are our Father's, but still they're so deep,
That shepherds are needed to water the sheep;
And shall they thus labor and toil for our good,
And we not supply them with clothing and food?
How can we still hope that our souls are new born,
And muzzle the oxen which tread out the corn!—
Did God care for oxen, or did he say thus,
Designing to give some instruction to us?
St. Paul has explained it and told what to do—
"Who preaches the gospel must live of it too;"
Some say, were we able we'd give with delight;
But think of the widow who cast in her mite!
What though we've no money to pamper our pride,
She kept not a penny for wants unsupplied;
Yet Jesus beheld her and sanction'd the deed,
And promis'd in future to shield her from need.
Cast your bread on the waters; obey the command,—
The Lord will restore it; His promise will stand;
Who give unto these, in the name of the Lord,
A cup of cold water, shall have their reward.