Questions & Answers
ANGRY I clamored at the golden gate Of Love. "Look now, O Love," I said, "and see; Look at the chaos, suffering, fear, and hate! Can you not end it, O great Majesty?" No answer came from that far-distant sky.
THE glowing sun sinks low beyond the hill, Flushing with transient rose the upper air, The darkening woods afar stand hushed and still, And bird and beast to nature's rest repair, While gently, its appointed place to fill, Comes in the quiet tide the evening peace to share. On scenes like these, of old, the Master's eye Might oft have rested as he took his way, After long hours of loving ministry, Into the solitudes, alone, to pray— To drink deep draughts of heavenly harmony, And peace and power renew in Soul's reviving ray.
Lamp of my feet that lights the way That I must surely go Among the maze of error's claims, Thy steady beams aglow Will e'er reveal to me the good And cause me right to know. Lamp of my thought, uplifting me In Soul's protecting might, Enable me the good to choose And in its ways delight, So error's claims will melt away As wrong gives place to right.
AT sunrise on some gallant day, Fling out no billowing flag for me! I would not see Your scarlet balconies, nor hear The plaudits of the roaring streets; I would climb up my secret stair And count the flowering moments of my days, How mercy came to me, and quiet peace, And love, for ease. And when the tired city lay at rest, The banners folded and the music gone, And the last lingering sparrow found its home, How swift I'd turn To place my hands, my two hands, Lord, in Thine Lest praise should do me harm.
WHEN shadows seem to cross my path, I can be still and feel God's presence, ever infinite, His love and truth, that heal The error that would dim my sight, Or make my footsteps slow. I can be still, 0 Love divine, I can be still, and know!
On the cool mountaintop the patriarch stood, With rugged faith and confidence in good; Here are the wood, the altar, and the fire, The uplifted thought aglow with deep desire. And here, behold, upon the altar lies That which the Lord demands for sacrifice— The son of promise, earnest of a nation As stars for multitude, from whom shall come salvation.
IN orderly formation, through the sky, A flock of birds is flying toward the north; No compass points the way, nor man-made chart, No calendar of seasons bids them forth. Omnipotence, the ever-present Mind That guides, and lifts as wings of birds in flight, With tenderness upholds us as we soar From sense to Soul, from darkness into light.
WHEN to Emmaus on that day Disciples of the Master walked— Two lonely men and sick at heart— Of grievous things they sadly talked. And disappointment ruled their thoughts And woe held fast their yearning eyes, Nor did they know that healing went Beside them in a stranger's guise.
The time is here To prove my trust in Thee; I need not fear, God gives the victory. Thus does my faith with firmness say "Be brave, Truth leads, this is the way," And I obey.
Across the valley deep the dawn is breaking, And mists disperse and melt as comes the light; On mountain crest the light of dawn is waking; Before the sunlight flees the phantom night. So comes the truth and heals all pain and sadness, God's purity appears, and sense dreams fade; We waken to the song of ageless gladness, We see the heaven and earth which God has made.