Poems

No more a servant! Prove illusive fetters But webs of mortal weaving. Break their gauze By seeking man's true self in mounting splendor, Conceived by God and governed by His laws.

We hear of pain and trouble, want and fear. The dual paths before us now are clear: The avenues which make reality of what we hear We must refuse, And then the glorious way will soon appear to higher views.

Pleasanter perhaps for Elijah If only Cherith had not failed him. Pleasanter to have rested there Drinking the clear brook water, fed by the ravens, Alone with God in the quiet— Pleasanter than submit himself to the rigor Of that poor widow's home in Zarephath.

When grief gets in the eye, the vision shrinks. The universe contracts to one who thinks Only of sorrow.

We make such mountains of the little things, Such molehills of the truly great. To vexing cares thought often firmly clings, While Life's eternal values wait! If we neglect the qualities of Soul, Our burdens mount, our cares increase.

After the cross—resurrection. Then, the doors being shut, he came; "Peace be unto you," he said.

Dear elder brother! Now I know Just how you felt that day. Many an elder brother since Has learned the same hard way.

" Lord , I am weary and afraid, And evil seeks to dominate. " So murmured one who thought himself Submerged in care and desolate.

The place is peaceful and the night is still; I will rejoice that I am safe in Him. This morning I first heard the royal will Commanding us that all true prayer must cease.

Impregnable to mortal thought, Father, maintain them. Let no pseudo-mind Suggestion, wandering idly and unsought, Emerge from nothingness And find A channel for hesitance And brief confusion.