“God does not beg you for your natural gift,

Nor does He lend an ear to impish taunts.

He can remove the skill His servant flaunts,

And to each rebel, His revenge is swift.

And do you think your aptitudes are yours,

Or rights to anger when your work falls short?

God smiles on you with implied retort;

Without His prompting, not an angel soars,”

Meekness rebukes, and Comfort sheds His light.

And as my weary eyes grow thick and dim,

I can see the shining face of Him

Whose strength is independent of my sight.

Let my affliction point to the Divine;

Redemption is the Lord’s, and never mine.