Questions & Answers
Dear God, one yearning lovely thought I pray,— I whisper it,—that day by day The Christ in consciousness may clearer grow Until I see Thee face to face and know My prayer is answered; for the peace Of Love's tranquillity brings surcease From all life's woes, and Truth triumphant shows, As shadows, mankind's mortal foes. The shadows darkly veiled my erring sight; I groped among them, seeking light.
Let me wash my deeds and my thinking clean, Free from the soil of self; Let me cleanse my heart from the taint of sin, From the greed for power and pelf; And so, dear God, let me take Thy hand And walk with Thee to-day— Let me walk in the light of Thy loving face All the happy, holy way.
A host of yellow lilies, growing there, Shone out so eagerly and spoke to me Of selflessness in such bright purity And freshness, that I greatly longed to share Their dear simplicity of beauty fair; I wished I might become a letting-be Of God, like them, a glad transparency For all God is. Desire like this is prayer.
May I live close to Thee, O God! So close that I may hear Thy voice Through error's din, And then, whatever may befall, Rejoice. May I live close to Thee, O God! So close that I may help extend To those in need, The sinful and the sorrowing Befriend.
The Mary of the Gospel days, With tear-filled eyes and aching heart, Looked down into the sepulcher To seek her Lord, and found him not. Then turning hopelessly away She hardly saw the figure near, Nor recognized the voice that spoke, Until her name was gently called In those sweet tones she knew so well.
To live above the mists of time and sense; To break all chains that bind, o'ercome each thorn; To find in Love divine full recompense— This is for us the resurrection morn.
"Let us say of the beauties of the sensuous universe: 'I love your promise; and shall know, some time, the spiritual reality .
Oh, mother heart, heavy with sorrow at the gates of Nain, How swiftly was that sorrow turned to joy, When at the Master's touch, your son, called dead, Arose and spoke again—your only boy! With what divine compassion Jesus spake To you, "Weep not," then came and touched the bier, And they that bore your son away stood still— Death's bearers ever halt when Christ draws near— What joy, when at the Master's ringing words, Uttered with power—Young man, I say, Arise! Straightway your boy arose, loosed to your arms, And gazed with love into your shining eyes! Oh, mother heart, what holy joy to gain This glimpse of heaven at the gates of Nain! Ye saddened heart, bearing a bier where hope deceased is laid, With deadened faith and inspiration sere, Love's messenger is waiting at the gates, And will with tender fingers touch your bier, Saying, "Arise"! And at that holy call Hope will then spring to life, and faith revive, And inspiration resurrected will, Like rain-kissed grasses, fresh and verdant thrive; And those unholy thoughts of doubt and fear, Which sought to bury faith, will then stand still; While you, encircled in the arms of Love, Will rest secure, safeguarded from all ill; Then, happy heart, you too the joy will gain Felt by that mother-heart at gates of Nain.
Easter morning, sweet and fair, Blossom fragrance in the air, Birds that gladly, sweetly sing, Joyous Easter morning! Joy in all the sunlit trees, Happiness in every breeze, Every sunbeam seems to say, This is Easter morning. Easter lilies, pure and white, Symbols of divine delight, In their purity and peace, Speak of Easter morning.
My heritage! Oh, boundless thought! It never can be sold or bought. It is from God, my Life divine, Who gives me all that I call mine, Mine to possess and never lose.