Dismiss Me Not

Dismiss me not Thy service, Lord,
But train me for Thy will;
For even I in fields so broad
Some duties may fulfil;
And I will ask for no reward,
Except to serve Thee still.

How many serve, how many more
May to the service come;
To tend the vines, the grapes to store,
Thou dost appoint for some:
Thou hast Thy young men at the war.
Thy little ones at home.

All works are good, and each is best.
As most it pleases Thee;
Each worker pleases when the rest
He serves in charity:
And neither man nor work unblest
Wilt Thou permit to be.

O ye who serve, remember One
The worker's way who trod;
He served as man, but now His throne,
It is the throne of God:
The sceptre He hath to us shown
Is like a blossoming rod.

I.
Firm fibres of the tree of life
Hath each command of His,
And each with clustering blossoms rife
At every season is;
Bare only, like a sword of strife.

Against love's enemies.
Our Master all the work hath done
He asks of us to-day;
Sharing His service, every one
Share too His sonship may.
Lord, I would serve and be a son;

Dismiss me not, I pray.