Poems

I feel the heart-throbs of a Life Divine, Still sweeping on through Nature's corridors, And hear the gentle voice of Truth and Love Which wakes the earth to beauty, bloom and song. The fragrant winds, the glistening new-born leaves, The low of cattle on a thousand hills,— The whole earth redolent with joyous song From God's own feathered choir, which soars and sings Through cloudless skies, palpitant with a light Which bathes the world in gentleness and peace,— Sing to the waiting heart a song of rest, And Nature's Diapason grandly swells With God"s own jubilate,— "Good is my God; My God is Good;  From "Pond and Purpose," by Rev.

Two little girls living in Kansas recently sent for use in the Bible in "Mother's Room," a tasteful book mark of white satin, about three inches wide by nine inches long, having printed thereon the following beautiful and appropriate poem of John G. Whittier's :— "And so, I find it well to come, For deeper rest, to this still room; For here the habit of the soul Feels less the outer world's control; The strength of mutual purpose pleads More earnestly our common needs; And from the silence multiplied By these still forms on every side, The world that time and sense has known Falls off and leaves us God alone.

The Church was thronged— Sunny-haired children, nestling 'neath Mother's sheltering arm—ruddy youth— Manhood in its pride—and heads Silvered o'er with years, all gathered At "call of chimes" to hear the "Word of God. " Stilled—was the Organ's tone—the people humbly Bowed the head in silent prayer.

My thought on the Mother Church has resolved itself into two parts,—namely, the Material, and the Spiritual. The following from Shakespeare and Dr.

O Thou Who art all in Unity, May we Thy creatures be Like Thee, one in diversity: Yet one, as born of Thee. From Thee the whole creation springs, Of Thee, and in Thy Mind it lives.

Let me no wrong or idle word Unthinking say; Set thou a seal upon my lips, Just for to-day, Lo, for to-morrow and its needs I do not pray: But keep me, guide me, love me, Lord, Just for to-day. — Selected.

A Midst the gloom of doubt and fear, The light of Truth is breaking; And loving duty leading on, There comes a grand awaking. The clouds of sense, that close the door To higher understanding, Are rolled away by Love's pure thought, From Heaven to earth descending.

For he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. —Heb.

THE first Church of Christ, Scientist! Thus it stands, Stands here immortal—a tribute in stone. From those who are near, and from far distant lands, Comes the true thought of Christ out of which this has grown.

"We (ye) also, as living stones, are built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ. "— 1 Peter 2:5.