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Till my work is done: A prayer for these times


In the work of life in this world, in this time, in this age
There is much work to do.
More faithful workers needed to carry the torch
Over lofty mountains, through valleys deep,
Across rivers swift, in galleys narrow; and across cruel seas
Cannot rest on my laurels, till my work is done

Preserve me in memory’s palm
In the presence of goodness, when I am gone
Though pressed by burden of work
No sound of despair shall escape my breath;
Always the bearer of good tidings,
Even when the rain of plenty stalls

When life’s tempest threaten,
Raise me up into the purity of my bliss,
Grant me strength for the morrow
And as the eagle, let me ride the raging tempest.

Oh pull me out of the abyss of despair!
And let me live in the presence of my bliss
Let me find peace and joy in all things good.
Let the joy of my service surpass the reward of labor,
And when my work on earth is done,
Let me not count vain glory, but the joy of living.

When my friends follow the willing crowd,
Let me be the lone watchman on the hill,
When those who travel life’s pathway slumber
Let me be life’s sentinel.

When the cares of earth rumble,
And when the winds of change threaten my abode;
When the hearts of men grow cold;
And a flicker of hope is dying with a diminishing glow
Grant me courage to surge on as Don Quixote did.

No winds of strife shall make me falter
Till my work is done,
And when old age cast its shadow over me,
Remind me I had lived well, and loved well.
That is all there is to a life,
And when my work is done
I shall be free at last!


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