Poems

Doors open wide and bands are loosed When prayer to God is made; When joyous praise to Him is sung, No heart can be afraid. No circumstance can fetter man, No evil can decree That man be chained when, girt with Truth, The child of God goes free.

Here in the heavens of uplifted thought, Beyond the veil of matter, is your home— Your kingdom home in Spirit and in Truth. So thin the veil of matter, self, and sin That childlike prayers, breathed from the heart of love, Will bring you angels guiding on your way.

Each morning, as the drowsy shades of sleep Fade from my eyes, Thy thoughts attend my rising: Joy fills me that another day shall keep Thy tryst of radiant hours. Thy truth advising Each smallest step, remolding human plans To the fair outlines of celestial will.

Let us act now. Why do we idly wait? Do we think God will grow, that we are late In seeking Him, our ultimate defense? God hears us now, unchanged omnipotence.

Despised, impure, and shamed of men, They brought her to the Lord And sought his judgment on a sin Their human laws abhorred. "What sayest thou?" Their clamor rose And swelled with priestly pride.

At midnight Paul and Silas prayed And sang loud praises unto God; All bands were loosed, and unafraid They walked again on freemen's sod. Prisoners, at your midnight hour, Wherever two or three agree, Pray, give thanks, and sing with power— The same Love hears and sets you free.

Far from Truth's narrow, upward path my feet Had strayed and over trampled grasses made Their way. Confused and lost in noise and heat Of surging throngs, I closed my eyes and prayed, And lo, I heard Love's mountain horn blow clear And sweet from heaven's citadel sublime.

This is God's day; I do not wish it To be any other day or time. This is God's place; I do not want it To be any other place.

I think there must have been a crowd that day, full of the varying moods that sway the throng: amusement, curiosity, dull doubt, with here and there the eager, questing heart that lifts itself to hear the angels' song. And, in the midst, the smiling smooth disdain of one who sought to trip the tongue so full of comfort to a world beset, racked with old problems, buffeted with pain.

You gave to Moses the law Upon Sinai mountain. You gave Isaiah his wellspring, To David his fountain; Rescued, refreshed, and transplanted A fugitive nation.