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A Song of Service (Classic Reprint)

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Excerpt from A Song of Service A song Of Service. (An Allegory.) I. The lowering clouds piled bank on bank, And poised against the ebon sky, The fitful gusts of blinding rain, The thunder's roll, the lightning's crash, The lashing tree tops in the wind, Proclaim the coming hurricane. And as I turned me from the furrowed field Where all day long in eager ceaseless toil, I'd labored earnestly, my soul cried out Unto the elements. Faith, Love, and Hope, Were gone. My life rebellious seemed to bend Unto the spirit of the coming storm. "Oh God, " I cried, "If Thou indeed can hear The prayers that mortal utters unto Thee, Why hast Thou left me thus alone, to work And struggle on a tiller of the soil? Have I not loved Thee, served Thee earnestly? Has not my heart in love gone out to Thee? Does not my voice proclaim Thy lasting praise? Then why hast Thou withheld from me, alone A message to the world that Thou art God? I would that I might stand with pleading voice Before the multitude. Or that my life About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully, any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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