Questions & Answers
"Mortal mind is the harp of many strings, discoursing either discord or harmony according as the hand, which sweeps over it, is human or divine. "— Science And Health with Key to the Scriptures, by Mary Baker Eddy, page 213.
"He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. '"— Psalms 107:20.
Thou weary one, Dost thou not know That while thy heart Is torn and sore Thou canst not give? Thou canst not sow? Thou fearful one, Canst thou not see That thou must first Thyself be glad Before thou canst Thy brother free? On bended knee Set thy heart free Of human will. It has no part In God's great plan For perfect man!
"I will not let thee go, except thou bless me. "— Genesis 32:26.
"Be still, and know that I am God:" Let senses false their clamor cease, In quietness shall be thy strength, In righteousness thou shalt find peace.
Like shepherds of that far-off Christmastide, May I, too, faithful unto duty be; Content with patient meekness to abide, Content with things that do belong to me, But never sleeping! Vigilant, awake, I boldly challenge with my shepherd's horn When danger lurks, whate'er the form it take; And so, serene and calm, I wait the morn. Thus let me watching be, when in the sky Comes glory that my humble sense transcends; Glory ineffable in heaven high, Glory which harmony and beauty blends, Glory which sheds upon my daily cares, As on the sheep of old, a radiant gleam; That beam of light each smallest duty shares, And fellow herdsmen like the angels seem.
O little self, that suffers and enjoys Within so small a compass, loose your bonds; Break through the walls of selfish interests, cares That keep life chafing like a fretful stream Thrown ever backward on itself; be free! Each outward-going thought on service bent Bears you still farther on the great expanse Of brotherhood and universal love. The dim horizon of the fair ideal Forever widens as you onward go— Self quite forgot—until at last it melts Into that boundless space where thought meets God.
Thou shalt make holy garments for thy brother, They shall be made for glory and for beauty, Of spiritual substance shalt thou weave them, Of righteousness and meekness and salvation, Of joy and peace, of purity and plenty, Of health and sinlessness and life immortal. Thou shalt wash clean thy thought from seeming evil, And, in the light of love and understanding, Thou shalt make gleaming garments for thy brother.
I walk the narrow way with joyous step— I know my Saviour's foot has pressed its sod— And up the winding path I find my way Is bright with blossoms from the fields of God. The strait gate opens to me as I go; Within its portals lies a golden light That clears sense-shadows from before my eyes, And opens distant vistas to my sight.
As evening stillness by a summer sea, As sunrise glow when dawns the light of day, As flowing brooks and waving fields of grass, So is the peace that holds me safe to-day. Peace, which the world can never take away, Which comes to those who live alone for Thee: In that calm haven of sweet peace I rest And learn of Life and Love and liberty.