Inspirational verse submitted by readers.
Poems
Thus saith the Lord, The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool: where is the house that ye build unto me? and where is the place of my rest?— Isaiah, 66:1. Where is the house that ye build me? this question will come To every one seeking a permanent home.
Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak— Matthew, 26: 41. Watch and pray, said Christ the Master; We of this have always need.
Be confident, ye dreamers for the right. The right shall triumph ere the strife is done; For is no human conflict settled quite Till in its holy name the day is won.
Our God is whatever we love the best, The thing enthroned within our breast, Be it good or evil, love or hate, Be it pleasure or power or rich estate, In our temple of thought, from the world apart. We burn our incense and offer our prayers, And daily our outward life declares What is supreme within our heart.
This beautiful poem was sent by a student of Christian Science to the Rev. Mary Baker G.
Where Christ our Lord abideth We know no thought of care. With heavenly might environed There is no sense of fear.
To know the beauty of cleanness The heart must be clean and sweet; We must love our neighbor to get his love,— As we measure, he will mete. Alice Cary.
Toiler and drudge, look up, The sky is blue, And clouds as white as wool Float lightly there; The love-light of the heavens Is over you, And like a floating cloud Becomes your care. Great peace have they who love The heavenly way; The upward look of joy, The tender tone, Brighten the toilsome hours; How bright a ray Of God's love-light springs up When love is sown.
Alone? with Thee, when the bright day is breaking? Alone? with Thee as evening shadows fall? Still, still with Thee in the dark hour of midnight, How can I fear, since Thou art All-in-all? And I to Thee, in the glad hour of triumph, And I to Thee all praise and glory give. Still, still to Thee, when error loudest calleth To Thee I look, in whom I move and live.
In a nightmare of unrest, I battled with the wave, Mortal mind was tempest-toss'd, No beacon light to save. Friends yearned to "lend a hand," But murmured in my ear,— "We too are wreck'd, can see no land, We are submerged in Fear.