Poems

Be true and list the voice within, Be true unto thy high ideal, Thy perfect self, that knows no sin— That self that is the only real. God is the only perfect one: My perfect self, one must it be With God, then,—and that thought begun, It solveth all the mystery.

The sun shone in glory o'er valley and hill, When up through the meadow and over the sill There dances a bright little sunbeam astray, Till it reaches a fair, blue-eyed baby at play. " How pretty," says baby, and, laughing with joy, She casts from her hand her most cherished toy; And over the carpet she creeps with delight To grasp this new toy that now dazzles her sight.

Rom. viii.

"What are you good for my little man? Now answer that question for me if you can,— You, with your fingers as white as a nun,— You, with your ringlets as bright as the sun, See if your wise little noddle can tell What you are good for? Now ponder it well. " Over the carpet the dear little feet Came with a patter to climb on my seat; Two merry eyes full of frolic and glee Under their lashes looked up unto me; Two little hands pressing soft on my face, Drew me down close in a loving embrace; Two rosy lips gave the answer so true, "Good to love you, mamma,—good to love you.

The grandest truth in God's big universe Today, is Christian Science —the Science of Spirit, That is, the Truth of Christ. The more we near it The sooner cometh the millennium, and the curse Of ignorance that doth our eyes immerse From seeing God, is lifted.

" The Master has come over Jordan," Said Hannah, the mother, one day; " He is healing the people who throng him, With a touch of his finger, they say. " And now I shall carry the children, Little Rachel, and Samuel, and John; I shall carry the baby, Esther, For the Lord to look upon:" The father looked at her kindly, But he shook his head and smiled; " Now, who but a doting mother Would think a thing so wild? " If the children were tortured by demons, Or dying of fever, 't were well; Or had they the taint of the leper, Like many in Israel.

If God is all in all His children cannot fear. See baseless evil fall, Knowing that God is here! For God is all.

" The parish priest Of Austerity Climbed up a high church steeple To be nearer God, So that he might hand His Word down to His people. When the sun was high, When the sun was low, The good man sat unheeding Sublunary things; From transcendency Was he forever reading.

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" In vain I stretch my weary hope " * To watch for His appearing; The nations still in darkness grope— Their ears are dull of hearing. Yet sweeping down the years untold, The day of Truth is breaking; And sweet and fair the leaves unfold, Of Love's immortal waking.