Questions & Answers
As when a pilgrim sees on far hill crest Tall spires and burnished domes against the sun, And yearns to reach, before the day is done, This city fair with promises,—and rest; And, goading self, sets eager feet to test His strength; and has no wish to shun The journey that seems ever just begun; And finds, in glad surprise, his shining quest Is but a brighter aspect of the glow That shone around his early path, and fired His first fine endeavor: so, years but show Time's measurements. The flaming life desired Is light, and near, and found in constant flow Of thought to God, serene and love-inspired.
When to the wilderness our Master went, Three angel friends did bear him company: Courage, the first, strong warder of the thought! Amid the loneliness, distrust, and doubt, Fearless and undisturbed he ably stood, With heart unwavering, and with head unbowed. Next, Patience, gentle handmaid of the heart, Strong toiler, firm, and faithful as the day! Ready to serve; no lesser joy she seeks; Living to love.
O'er all, the sunshine of Thy presence beameth. Although my earthborn eyes be dim with tears, To that clear inner sight that knows no darkness, The glow and glory of the Christ appears.
When the way seems steep and rugged, And the day is dark and cold; When the little sheep has wandered From the shepherd's shelt'ring fold; Oh, 'tis blessed to remember That wherever we may roam, There's a tender voice still calling, "He is mindful of His own. " Though we make our bed in heaven, Or in depths of bitt'rest hell, In the mountains, on the desert, 'Neath church dome, in prison cell, In the midst of friends and loved ones, Or when far away from home, What a comfort to remember, "He is mindful of His own!" In the strife of daily living, While we're conquering griefs and fears, Still we see Truth's banner waving As the smoke of battle clears.
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!.