Questions & Answers

I rose upon the wings of thought, In flights of fancy roved, and soared above The sordid world; the Truth I sought Seemed hidden, and I vainly strove To solve the mystery, prayed for light To penetrate this endless night. I searched for God both far and near, And yet in utter darkness groped; My eyes were holden still with fear; I staggered, Lord, for I had hoped To find in Thee some trace of self, Some worldly gain, or hoard, or pelf.

With gaze enrapt, transfixed beyond The infant nestling at her breast, The mother views her heritage— A child from God's creation blest. So Mary saw beyond her babe, Th' adoring angels close beside; So one of old on Sinai's height Faced light to lower planes denied.

The silent stars are full of speech For who hath ears to hear; The winds are whispering each to each, And stars their sacred lessons teach Of faith, and hope, and cheer. But once the sky its silence broke, And song O'erflowed the earth; And angels mortal language spoke, When God our human utterance took, In Christ the Saviour's birth.

I know a nature like a tree; Men seek its shade instinctively. It is a choir for singing birds.

I dreamed of wandering through a leafy wood The birds sang blithely; in white, fragrant showers, Across my path the jasmine flung its flowers, And Nature seemed in her most joyous mood. I paused a while—when circled silently A cloud of bright-winged creatures round my head; One, bolder than the rest, approached and said,— "We are your Days—those past and yet to be; I am To-day.

OUR Father, while our hearts unlearn The creeds that wrong thy name, Still let our hallowed altars burn With Faith's undying flame! Not by the lightning gleams of wrath Our souls Thy face shall see, The star of Love must light. the path That leads to heaven and Thee.

Grant me, O God, the "seeing eye,"      The Spirit's vision clear, That, in the place of error's lie,      The perfect may appear. Grant me, O God, the "hearing ear,"      That, error's din above, My listening sense may ever hear,      The sweet concords of Love.

'Tis mine to sow the seed, Though I may never know Whether the tender rootlets find Good soil in which to grow. 'Tis mine to sow the seed At morn, or noon, or night, Or even at the midnight hour, For Love will furnish light.

Truth leads us to that Fountain, pure and sweet, Where songs of deathless harmony arise, Where Beauty's being greets our spirit-eyes, And soul's desire and heaven's fulfilment meet. There find we Love enthroned in Mercy's seat, The golden glory of diviner skies Enfolding her with light that never dies— All these we find, if Truth but guide our feet.

I dwell not here; this sense of life With all its fret, and jar, and strife Is not true living, 'Tis slavery. I live above, Where time is joy, where life is love, Its freedom giving.