A faithful heart performs its sacred art—
Unseen deeds like incense, pure and bold,
Rising through the veil, untouched by earthly praise.

No trumpet sounds, no laurel crowns descend,
No crowds applaud the hands that serve in night.
The friend of God walks where few comprehend,
A stranger here, whose path the world calls slight.

For this world crowns its loud and gilded own,
The flash, the fame, the fleeting golden lie.
But Heaven’s ledger marks the seeds unsown
To mortal sight—each tear, each prayer, each sigh.

There, in the Lamb’s pure light, the veil will part,
And unseen labors bloom in endless day.
The Friend who sees in secret, searches heart,
Will celebrate with joy that none can take away.

So labor on, beloved, in holy shade,
Though earth forget, let not your spirit grieve.
The true ovation waits where stars are made—
In Heaven’s hall, where even silence sings.

Well done, thou good and faithful—enter in.
The crown of life outshines all earthly din.