Send me,' he cries, his sin-purged lips with altar fires aglow:
'I'll bear the living message of free forgiving love;
O let me win the wand'rers to the path that leads above.'
`Spite all the ties of nature, he leaves his friends and home,
A lonely witness o'er the world, despised and poor, to roam.
Nought takes he for his service, but freely in His name
Who sent him and supplies his need, the Gospel would proclaim.
Within his yearning bosom, love to the Savior reigns:
In all the labors of his life no other power constrains.
Deep are his tender feelings, sweet is his pleading tone,
As he described the glories of yon Man on Heaven's throne.
His heart the heavy burden of sinful souls must bear;
He wrestles for them at God's throne through hours of midnight prayer.
Eternity before him more real than Time appears:
Oh, wonder not he pleadeth with the eloquence of tears!
Anointed by God's Spirit, trained at the Master's feet,
Commissioned and sent forth by Him, all furnished and complete.
No human art or wisdom his talent could assist:
A heavenly-moulded, God-sent man is the evangelist.
He is the weeping sower who shall with singing come,
Bringing his gathered sheaves from earth to Heaven's harvest home.
And when with joy he lays them down at the Master's feet,
His own 'Well done! thou faithful one,' will make his bliss complete.—William Blane
(Ps. 126. 5, 6; Isa. 6.8; Luke 14.23; Rom. 1. 14, 15; 3 John 7)