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[Written January, 1900.]

From the February 1900 issue of The Christian Science Journal

This poem was later republished in Poems:Po. 79

It matters not, What be thy lot, So Love doth guide; For storm or shine— Pure peace is thine— Whate'er betide. And of these stones; Or tyrant's thrones, God able is, To raise up seed— In thought and deed— To faithful His.