Weary, and bruised, and bleeding still
⁠From life's sharp thorns, on, on we come:
Down at our Master's feet we drop,
⁠⁠And here are heaven and home!

Safe at those feet, where joy, and pain,
⁠And all that made life dark or bright,
Seem but a mist beneath the sun
⁠⁠Of our supreme delight.

What matter that the world has frowned,
⁠That fortune ever was unkind,
That plans have failed, and cares have pressed?
⁠⁠All, all is far behind!

What matter now, the hard cold words
⁠That smote us when for love we sought?
What matter now? The goal is reached —
⁠⁠The bitter past is nought.

And we can smile a bright, calm smile
⁠At pains whereby our hearts were riven,
And wonder such small things could touch
⁠⁠A soul bound straight for heaven!

Wake from the dream — our glorious then
⁠Shines like a star above our sight:
Our patient now before us lies,
⁠⁠And duty gives the light.