Poems

Once on a day, As two trod wearily the long highway With faces toward Emmaus set And eyes that looked through tragic doubt to see Some friendly ray shatter the mystery, While yet they walked, A gentle stranger came and with them talked, And suddenly they knew—with hearts aglow Received the very Saviour whom they longed To find, to know. So here, today— When thought steps out beyond the senses' sway, The Father's house appears, the key we hold— Do not our raptured hearts within us burn Just as of old?

" That ye love one another. " This is a lesson then That sometime must be learned.

So small a room, To mortal sense so bare, Yet in that peaceful place She knew God's love—and there Her thought transfigured rose To bless mankind through prayer. Hers was the joy Of quiet victory, Within those humble walls, As faithfully she searched to see The fundamental Truth, To find the Scriptures' sacred key.

Now is the morn of resurrection, When thought awakes to man's perfection As Love's dear child, And human sense, inspired and lifted, Leaves mortal dreams in which it drifted, By sleep beguiled. Such is the power of this glad waking That its own spiritual force is breaking The seal of fears.

Her little son, her Jesus, It was now three days since he had gone, And sorrowing they journeyed searching. Jerusalem is reached again, And in the temple—there he stood, Among the learned men, Hearing and asking questions.

Behold , as Jesus did, immortal man! The vision infinite the Christ revealed: In glory formed—before the world began— The perfect man the love of God has sealed. Existing in the All and only, he Embraces peace and dwells in heavenly good, Forever sure of Love's infinity And God's eternal, changeless fatherhood.

On that portentous night in far Gethsemane Not one was found to watch and pray with thee. Oh, fatal lethargy of false, material sense That could not give this single evidence Of love and loyalty.

I have come home again unto my Father's house—at last Returned to be a son! I have repented of the past— The squandered years, the paltry husks of joys meant but for swine; And now I humbly come to claim the glory that is mine. I have come home, O Father, for the dream of sinful sense Has vanished at the healing touch of Mind's omnipotence.

Inspired thought, with all its spiritual power, Bestows on human consciousness each hour The light of Truth. Within the glow of its benevolent ray, Abiding peace exemplifies each day The power of Truth.

So sweet the mellow sunlight of the day. Lovely the glimmering silver of the night.