Is there a vice can plague us worse?
The wretch who digs the mine for bread,
Or plows, that others may be fed,
Feels less fatigue than that decreed
To him who cannot think, or read.
Not all the peril of temptations,
Not all the conflict of the passions,
Can quench the spark of Glory's flame,
Or quite extinguish Virtue's name.
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
He went out, and found others standing; and he saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard.
—Matthew 20. 6, 7.
Eternal God, who hath weighed the mountains and measured the seas, I pray that I may not be satisfied to wait in idleness, and let thy wisdom pass away from me as the days. Steady me in my weakness, and reveal to me my strength as I draw near and ask of thee. Amen.