It came and went so quickly, My sluggish soul saw not
The Master stand and beckoning
Toward one of humble lot.
And I rose not up to follow,
So slow was I to see,
Till the help I might have given
Forever fled from me.
And often I am grieving,
And longing all in vain,
For a blessed opportunity
That will not come again.
Dear Lord, give Thine anointing,
And make mine eyes to see;
And make me swift in doing
The work Thou givest to me. —L. Adda Nichols
Craig T. Owens 
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