With what rich love each waiting hour is filled!
There is no straining to scan days to be
When every hour knows God's munificence.
In sweet communion darkening fears are stilled
And eyes tear-dimmed glimpse a new radiancy.
Here bearing gifts of peace come visitants
Angelic, winged with hope, in comfort skilled,
Whose wise persuasion loosens that tense hold
On finite good, that our hands may be free
To grasp such joys as God has ever willed,
Beyond earth's dream, and richer manifold,
Love's sure response to faith's expectancy.
Poems
THE WAITING HOUR
From the February 1945 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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