Is there some desert or some pathless sea Where thou, good God of angels, wilt send me? So oak for me to rend; some sod, Some rock for me to break; Some handful of His corn to take And scatter far afield, Till it, in turn, shall yield Its hundred fold Of grains of gold To feed the waiting children of my God. Show me the desert, Father, or the sea. Is this Thine enterprise? Great God, send me.