A school it is, where glorious things are taught; A factory as well, where lives are wrought; A garden, where the flower-like children grow; An ocean, too, where freighted vessels go. It is a school, the school of Jesus Christ; His treasure-house as well, of gems unpriced; His army, drilled for high, heroic strife; His orchard, with all golden fruitage rife. It loves a Book, this Bible Sunday school; It owns a sceptre -- Christ's imperial rule; It has one task -- the Saviour's will to do; It holds one faith -- that He is good and true. O school, unending is your perfect lore. O army, forward! Jesus goes before. O workmen, labor! Jesus labors too; You cannot fail, your Master toils with you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR BONNYBELL: THE BUTTERFLY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE AN EVANGELIST'S WIFE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON CHARLES CARVILLE'S EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |