Questions & Answers
There's but one time, there's but one place The time is Now, the place is Here; For all of good and all of grace Are here and now, forever near, To master fear, to vanquish ill, The fount of fortitude unseal, Dissolve the discords of self-will, And Love's omnipotence reveal. For Love divine and infinite Is conscious of no lapse from grace: Its purposes, in concord knit, Ne'er fail creation to embrace.
To think of Him as by our side, Is almost as untrue As to remove His throne beyond Those skies of starry blue. So all the while I thought myself Homeless, forlorn and weary, Missing my joy, I walked the earth Myself God's sanctuary.
God speaketh In the heart's deep silences, When human sense is barred the way, And errant thought beats harmless at the gate. Make way for God, Ye restless thoughts That wander aimless to and fro; Ye idlers, That do busy-body with eternity; Ye alien fancies, That throng the Happy Isles of Quietness; Ye anxious cares, That spendthrift solitude; Ye foreboding fears, That storm the citadel of holiness— Make way for God! God speaketh In the temple of the Spirit; And one listening, Waits the coming Of the "angels of His presence," "The People's Idea of God," by Mrs.
Why linger in the shadows of the past, Or towards the future longing glances cast? Behold to-day, with all its blessings vast! From somber dreams of what hath been, awake! Imagings vain of what may be, forsake! In God's eternal now thy dwelling make. Truth, Life, and Love are now revealed to thee; Lift up thine eyes their radiance to see; Accept their gifts, bestowed abundantly! By quiet waters, Truth thy steps doth lead; Life giveth bread thy hungry heart to feed; Love infinite supplies thy every need.
If we would work as Jesus worked In days of long ago, How full of joy our lives would be, How banished every woe! Did sin present itself to him In ugly, loathsome guise? He saw at once God's perfect child Before his vision rise. Then he who had been error's thrall From that dear presence went, Made free,—from chains belief had forged,— By God omnipotent.
How standest thou, Onesimus? The glare Of Rome behind thee; on thy face The mark of Rome's worst hours: there, Are imprinted all the signs thou dread'st,— Thou art a slave!.
In finite sense, which views the starry dome above With mortal vision, human thought cannot conceive Of aught that is beyond. A finite sense has circumscribed itself And all that comes within its misty view, And through the vast domains of space takes timid wing, As e'en the tender nestling from some low-bent bough.
Help me, O God! to do Thy will; Thy every gift to me unstained keep; Help me the voice of sense to still, Till I the harvest of Thy sowing reap. Help me to hold the thought in check, Which, if in me it e'er should find a place, Would my most cherished treasures wreck, And all my aspirations pure debase.
"I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. " Matt.
It came, but after weeks of pain, you say; When darkened hours prevailed, with scarce a ray To cheer you on your ever faltering way. And you were patient, trustful, kind? It came, you say, a glint of heavenly blue, And 'round your couch Love's healing presence threw A halo of assurance, strangely new.