Let us behold the dwelling place of God,
This high, this holy, and this undefiled
Home of true Spirit, by no mortal trod,
Guarded by flaming sword! Here to the mild,
The truly meek, the clear-eyed angel throng,
Its portals open wide—though knock in vain
The proud, the fearful thoughts allied to wrong
. When subtler errors would a meekness feign,
No entrance can they find, and in the light
So radiant and so healing from within,
They vanish with the shadows of the night.
And thus forever victor over sin,
Sickness, and death, the holy temple stands,
Built upon rock, and not on shifting sands.
Poems
GOD'S DWELLING PLACE
From the June 1940 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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