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THE OLD BIRTH AND THE NEW

From the January 1896 issue of The Christian Science Journal


A SENSE of life as mortal breath,
Bound in a few uncertain years,
Waiting, expectant for some death,
Walking in bondage to our fears.

A heritage of error's curse,
A daily round of want and pain,
A blind search through the universe
For God, that seeks him yet in vain.

Our hand against our brother turned,
Our heart abandoned to its greed,
Sweet pity in our hatred burned
And love debased where it should lead.

Some weary wanderings here and there,
Poor troubled dreams a day might span,
No hope abiding anywhere—
Oh, this is to be born of man.

A sense of Life untouched by death,
Unmeasured by time's fickle years,
Where fear may mark no shibboleth
Nor hold us bound in pain and tears.

A heritage as God's own child,
Above the thought of Adam's curse,
Within His Truth, still undefiled
To find man and the universe:

To help our brother in his need,
To know that Love reflects her own;
Unselfishness in place of greed
And Charity upon her throne;

To find our heaven everywhere,
To wake and live above this clod,
To find that we His image bear—
Oh, this is to be born of God.

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