Commanded of God to rejoice,
But not to seek pleasure below,
For pleasure sought, is illusive,
As all who pursue it know.
God made His children for service,
And joy is the result of this,
Where service is not, the mind,
Has any thing else but bliss.
Our seed bed for joy are the lives,
Who need our service here,
To sow it in self, kills it,
Being out of its sphere.
Sown in our own life, it withers,
In the selfish air of our life,
Which poison our life with sorrow,
To change it into a knife;
Which cuts our joy to fragments,
And slashes our pleasures in twain,
To bleed out our hearts in sadness,
Because of their selfish aim.
If we have no wave of pleasure,
From a source of joy within,
Whose author is God Almighty,
Who moves us away from sin.
If you have no urge for service,
From an urge for joy within,
Go plant the seed of the Gospel,
In the heart of sinful men.
Wait not for joy to overtake you,
If you do, it will leap over head,
And light on those who are busy,
With Life to those who are dead.
When love for service expands you,
Before God you life worth while,
Your Saviour will come with His Joy,
And draw you up with a smile.
