Questions & Answers
When the night was dark and still, When the midnight hour was long, Prophet-shepherds on the hill Understood the angels' song. Light that cheered their winter gloom, In that sweet compelling hour, Herald of eternal noon, Promise of eternal power — They beheld its guiding ray, And to Bethlehem were led, Where the gentle Saviour lay In a lowly cattle shed.
On mountain summit shines a beacon light, A star upon the dusky brow of night; And when the darkness binds with econ veil Night's tresses, and the mount grows dimly pale, Powdered with mist, until its outline fades, Enveloped in the pall of midnight shades, Still glows the beacon, shedding benisons Of kindly light upon earth's denizens; In calm or tempest steadfast is its glow, Saying to those who gaze: Take heart and know Though veiled from sight the mountain still is near. Behold, my light upon its brow shines clear! So through our doubt and darkness may there shine The star of inspiration, light benign; Guiding to mount of revelation, whence Man may envision God's omnipotence.
Angels are messengers of Love, Pure thoughts from God to man. Proceeding from the realm of light, Dispersing shades of darksome night, These visitants of heavenly birth Proclaim Love's kingdom come on earth, Dear angels of His presence.
Through the blazing fields of barley, When the grain was in the ear, Jesus led a group of students, In the autumn of the year, Up the thronging, noisy roadway, Till they reached a quiet home, Where the little children gathered, When they saw the loved one come. There he sat and called his followers, Called them to him every one— What was it that they disputed 'Neath the evening's glowing sun? Heedless of the lilies' sweetness Pouring forth at close of day, Each had claimed to be the greatest, As they loitered by the way.
Love guards our flight, When at His firm and wise behest He bids us leave our narrow nest Of cloistered thought and easy rest, And soar to realms of heavenly light Upon His pinions bright. Love spreads broad wings; And by His lifting, holy grace We find a wider, fairer place, The freedom of untrammeled space, Where clearer vision shows us things The nest-view never brings.
O little children whom our Master suffered To come to him and hear the truths he spake, May I, like one of you, draw ever closer In confidence no mortal voice can shake. O little children who have known the Father, Teach me to know Him in your childlike way, May I have faith like yours to feel His presence, Guiding, protecting me throughout the day.
So long I waited for the answer, Lord; So long I labored, weary, spent, and worn; So long I strove, and striving, pushed away The precious, priceless things bestowed by Thee On Thy reflection, man. Peace, joy, and power lay close at hand — Yet these I did not see till one sweet day; Because I truly yearned the answer came, And truth revealed my life assured and free, Apart from circumstance of loss or gain.
That I an able minister may be, Three gifts, O Father-Mother, God, I ask of Thee: The first, a swift compassion, to discern The human need, the tired feet to turn From false meanderings in error's way, Towards the light of day. The next, the wisdom and the love and grace To set my own thought free of every trace Of personal sense, that when my brother brings To me, with joy, his sweet and sacred things, I may appreciate, and glory give to God, And in the holy presence of his vision stand unshod.
We wake to worship as the birds to song; Joyful with praise, let all our voices be; Fountainward do they flit the whole day long— May we seek Truth's clear streams as constantly Eager as they, life-giving drafts drink in; Freely as they, on wings of purpose rise; Truth soars triumphant over pain and sin; The Love we worship all around us lies.
O happy , happy thought, that I am thine And Thou, the All-inclusive, must be mine! O happy, restful thought! Where'er I roam, In consciousness divine I have my home. O happy, radiant thought, that pangs of night Are vanquished by the prayer, "Let there be light"! O happy, healing thought! Though sick I seem, I can awake and know 'its but a dream.