Strike The Chords Softly

Strike the chords softly with tremulous fingers,         While, on the threshold of happiest years,     For a brief moment fond memory lingers,         Ere we go forth to life's conflicts and fears!     Strike the chords softly! - yet no, as we tarry,         Swiftly the morning is gliding away;     Weary ones droop 'neath the burdens they carry,         Toiling ones faint in the heat of the day.     Let us not linger! - Earth's millions are crying         "Come to us, aid us, we grope in the night!     Come to us, aid us, we're perishing, dying -         Give us, oh, give us, the heavenly Light!"     Let us not linger! - our brethren are calling, -         "Aid us, the harvest increases each day; -     Some have grown weary, alas, of their toiling! -         Others have passed from their labors away."     Gracious Redeemer we go at thy bidding,         Gladly encountering peril and loss;     Take us - ourselves to thy work we are giving,         Giveus - 'tis more than we merit - thy cross!