Laudations few this weary world receives;
But we, this age, shall nowise stint our meed of praise,
For through the open windows of its skies
Have come, upon the wings of morn,
Chaste dawn-tints of the day beyond,
To rest within a woman's waiting heart,
Whose love, as Christ's, unveils this holy noon to us.
It glows from thence unto all journeying souls,
And with its radiance glorifies their ways.
White lives, in ages past, beheld like rays;
And though ecliptic mists from earth arose,
The light shone on,
And now, full-orbed, comes vanquishing the night
Through her we bless.
Poems
[Written for the Journal.]
GRATITUDE
From the November 1907 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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