The Weary Hours Like Shadows Come And Go

The weary hours like shadows come and go,
As still I strive, by earnest faith and pray’r,
To do each day the duties that I know,
And bear the cross my Saviour bids me bear.

But are there many weary miles to tread
Before the promised home appears in sight?
And are there sad and bitter tears to shed
Ere we shall meet in realms of endless light?

Some little joy I have in doing still
The humble work He bids me do for Him;
A tender gladness when ’tis mine to fill
Again some empty chalice to the brim.

And thus the days are slowly passing here,
With distant gleams of hope and glory blest;
But is the hallowed moment drawing near
When we shall meet again in endless rest?

Ah, yes, when that great light which men call Death
Strikes thro’ the gloom and stills at last the strife,
Then come a hush, a sigh, a fleeting breath,
And we shall meet again in endless life.