'Tis the glad messengers of Truth release
From fetters false of sorrow, sin, disease,
Poor struggling hearts 'mid ills that sense reports.
His "still small voice" inspires with healing thoughts,
And leads to higher views, to know His might,
To see His tender, loving care, the light
Of Love that knows no fear. His healing works
And proofs destroy all sin—the dream where lurks
The counterfeit and shadow of the real,
Pretense that only can itself reveal;
All that we have from Him is good alone.
'Tis ours to make our consciousness the throne
Of thoughts that bless; to know, to well maintain
The harmony and health of Love's domain.
No wisdom wise, but His, we apprehend;
No strength, no power, no might, but He doth lend;
No happiness, no joy, but that He know'
No loveliness of love without Him glows.
One tender Principle, one deathless Love
Is ours; one Father-Mother Mind above
All human strife; One that is ever near,
Refuge most sure in every doubt and fear.
Poems
[Written for the Journal]
LEAVEN OF TRUTH
From the October 1923 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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