"Our hearts are restless 'till they find their rest in thee",
Said my soul to my heart and my heart to my head.

In one accord agreed we then
To love and labor till he win.

Or better still, till gladdening eyes
And quicker, running, lengthened strides
I chase through life, one goal apart
Of whom has my soul, my mind, my heart.

"My soul," said I "wait thou only upon God
For His expectation gives days their joy".

And once again, there gathered three,
My head, my heart, my soul, and me
And all we talked of what imparts
In how we rest in head, in heart.

"To trust!” said one. "No need to fear!
We know that Christ draws ever near
And one day comes; twill ever be
A bliss! A perfect harmony".

Again, we nodded in one accord
And Heart, the weak, stepped meekly forward.

"I know this faltering flesh and tongue
Are quick to relinquish internal resolve,
But could it be a bit unjust to place expectation and think it trust?"

Again, we pondered all the words
And settled them into our heart
Lest we forget to remember,
Or remember to forget,
The fears that come with weaker parts.

And then rose up my fiery soul
Who addressed my fickle head and heart.

"And who are we to be unjust, or foolish
Or days of Him robust with internal grief
And fickle strife, are there not more
Days given Life?
For truly we must count our days
To give them best to wisdom."

And At that thought we glowed to red.
Ne’er forgetting how we’d lost our head
And heart and soul had felt the pain
Of allowing weakness to cause us shame
And mar the Goodness that we loved most.

Shy then, again, and well abashed
At thoughts of how the past gives back
The fruit in which we’d laboured –

We put our thoughts in circle three:
My head, my heart, my soul, and me.

Decided we then to wait and pray
And see what’d come, what will, what may.
Lest we talk without thoughts
Or act without shame
At things that might ‘ere have a day.

And then, the voice came and startled us three:
My head, my heart, my soul, and me.

The booming voice so whispery,
Filled us. Awed and quivering.

“Let us then be up and doing!
With a heart for any fate,
Still achieving
Still pursuing
Learn to labor, and to wait.”

“Truth!” said my head. “This thought I all along!”
“Yes!” said my heart. “’Tis a fair morn song”.
“Right!” said my soul. “Let us labor just
For what God has called us to – we will and must”.

So my head, my heart, my soul, and me
Decided then God’s face to seek.
Whether day by day, or week by week.
Tis his goodness we longed for. His promise we seek.

And ‘ere we forget how fickle we be,
My God gave my head, my soul, and me
A heart to complete us, and make us three.
That in all our weakness, his strength could complete.








“Let us then be up and doing!
With a heart for any fate,
Still achieving
Still pursuing
Learn to labor, and to wait.”
                                      
                                - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow





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