Questions & Answers

One , helpless, in great suffering lay, Bound by disease and grievous pain. It was a warm, dark April day, And hour by hour gushed forth the notes Poured forth in rapture from the throats Of robins singing in the rain.

Art thou alone? Nay, not alone, dear friend. Love to each creature doth His presence lend, To guide and comfort throughout error's night Till thought awakens—Truth unfolds to sight! Love guards the sparrow in its skyward flight, Love clothes the lily in its vesture bright, And Love maintains thy being—do not fear.

Thy path leads through the wilderness, by thorny ways? The water spent, thou faintest neath the sun's fierce rays? Like Hagar, list: to thee a voice comes clear and low: Fear not; thine eyes no longer holden, see, where flow Life's waters, cold and pure before thee. Fear not; drink; The spring's exhaustless.

For centuries have we been stupid, Lord,      And to thy meaning not a little blind; True, we have daily prayed, Thy kingdom come,      And waited idly on the words, resigned To leave fulfillment unto thee alone.      Yet scanning them in fuller later light, We see thou didst appoint for us a share      To haste that coming, had we heard aright.

When round me sounds the battle's din. And tumult seems without, within, To rule supreme; when fear assails, And error's voice almost prevails, Life's lessons seem too hard to learn— To God omnipotent I turn And hear Love's gentle accents tell: All good is with you.

Faint though the morning's beams diffuse the light Athwart the sensuous gloom of mental night, Yet swiftly flee the shadows of despair; And! o, the guiding star of Hope, abiding, fair, Beacons the mind distraught by error's sway To where the Bethlehem babe in meekness lay. Ah, tender thought of purest mother love.

Take this one step with me, dear friend, to-day— Along the sunlit path of "wrongs forgiven," And find there is no unkind word that mortal tongue can say Can thwart for thee a blessing straight from heaven. The blessing comes when thou art loving still, Tho' oft the thorn into thy side be pressed; When thou canst know His perfect will, His perfect love should be through thee expressed.

IF he tarry till I come, What is that to thee? ('Tis the Master who reproves) Follow thou me! If his stumbling steps seem slow, What is that to thee? I am guiding him—and thee; Follow thou me! Is thine own step steady, sure? Thine eye clear to see? Hast thou thyself left all for me? Follow thou me! His slow and stumbling steps may be Steadier than thine own; Who art thou that thou shouldst judge? That work is mine alone. Would'st thou haste Truth to unfold? Live it, lovingly; Let thy brother see thy steps Following me.

Sing unto the Lord, O, sing! Sing a gladsome, cheering song; Let its melody outwing Every murmuring of wrong. Come, forego your doleful lays, Serving only to depress; Learn the harmonies of praise, Which uplift, redeem, and bless.

Beside the door six water pots were ranged. Empty for service.