#563IN LOWLY PATHS

1
In lowly paths of service free, Tell me not a greater story; Walk me to that shore of light, Where the ransomed robes grow bright.
2
To labor here from day to day With the grateful heart that sees In the vernal turf the clay, And guilt that is the seasoned way.
3
But is the vernal turf the clay, And guilt that is the seasoned way? Then lead me where I ought to go, And learn how to submit below.
4
May I learn to know thy will, And lean upon thy arm of love, In quiet rest and trustful still, Till called to that home above.

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