Poems

Infinite Mind my Shepherd is, And want I cannot see; The fragrant pastures all are His, And here He leadeth me Beside the streams of thought divine, And showeth me that all is mine. True sense of Life He doth restore To me in error's dream; Right thinking opens wide the door Wherein the glorious gleam Of Truth and Love falls on my heart, And Him I understand—in part.

Jesus loves you! so does Mother:      Glad thy Easter–tide: Loving God and one another,      You in Him abide. Ours through Him who gave you to us,      Gentle as the dove, Fondling e'en the lion furious,      Leading kine with love.

" Tis Resurrection Day; The stone is rolled away That hid from us the sense of Life and Love; All clad in Heaven's hue, And on God's image true, Descends the holy vision of the dove. Peace to each hoping heart; Balm for the arrow's dart; Mankind is risen from the sleep of death! Love burst the prison bars, And, with the morning hours, On this fair earth we draw a freer breath.

Rondeau. Hold Thou my hands a little while in thine— Thy gentle, restful hands—O Life divine! Cast out dark seeming and unquietness, As mothers do their children's restlessness, With unseen hand, which love and rest combine! And when these inconsistent hands of mine, To wayward selfishness and deeds incline, With Thy all-might and tender-lovingness, Hold Thou my hands! And when I face the dark, and must resign Love's tender, human touch; must disentwine Its dear, detaining clasp; when fears depress,— Those mortal fears I cannot quite repress, For all my faith and trust,—O Love divine, Hold Thou my hands!

Samaria ! thy winding ways And shady paths are dear to me, And all the shadow-haunted aisles That skirt sweet Galilee. The Man of Sorrows knew thee well— He left His footprints everywhere— And one may walk those paths to-day And feel His Presence there.

Going —the great round Sun, Dragging the captive Day Over behind the frowning hill. Over beyond the bay— Dying: Coming—the dusky Night, Silently stealing in, Wrapping himself in the soft, warm couch Where the golden-haired Day had been Lying.

Jesus , Saviour, how I love Thee! Love Thee more than tongue can tell, For the peace which Thou hast brought me,— Peace which in my heart doth dwell. Holy rapture, heavenly comfort, Perfect rest from sin and woe,— Jesus, Saviour, how I love Thee! Only Thou and I do know.

Thy Book is here, I hold it now With hesitating hand; But, ere I ope, give me the power, Dear Lord,—to understand! What lies within? What may I learn? A thought too great and grand For such as I—so frail, so small, So weak—to understand? Father above, I'm wandering towards The good and better land: Ah! guide my footsteps in Thy way And help me—understand. Written by one who is not a Scientist, but who like a little child lost in the dark is crying vainly for the light.

O love divine, Thou art my stay, Thou art the "Truth, the Life, the Way," When human love forsakes and all else fails, Upon Thy arm I lean, whate'er assails. Thou lead'st me beside the waters still, And looking up to Thee, I know no other will, In pastures green, I rest secure in Thee, Knowing Thy "rod and staff will ever comfort me.

Beautiful Truth! Wonderful Truth! Life everlasting sent down from above; Filling my soul with perpetual youth; Filling my heart with the raptures of love. Beautiful Truth! Wonderful Truth! Jesus the Truth is, the Way, and the Life; They who believe on His name in their youth Enter in safety earth's terrible strife.