Poems (Coolidge)/Self-Denials

by Helen Elizabeth Coolidge

SELF-DENIALS

They seem sometimes to be so small,
 Those things we long to do;
As though the giving-up were vain;
 Yet thus are lives made true.

They seem—ah, yes! to earthly sight,
 Yet to the Father's eye,
No sacrifice the soul can make,
 But helps to sanctify.

The little touch the potter's hand
 The yielding clay doth give,
Shall shape the lines of beauty. till
 An image fair shall live.

So now, dear Lord, I yield to thee
 My stubborn, erring will;
Thine image in my heart with love
 Shall all my spirit fill.