His lamp am I, to shine where He shall say,
And lamps are not for sunny rooms,
Nor for the light of day;
But for dark places of the earth,
Where shame and crime and wrong have birth;
Or for murky twilight gray
Where wandering sheep have gone astray;
Or where the light of faith grows dim,
And souls are groping after Him.
And as sometimes a flame we find,
Clear shining through the night,
So bright we do not see the lamp,
But only see the light:
So may I shine- His light the flame,
That men may glorify His name.
-Annie Johnson Flint