Oh, when I meet you, loving pilgrim-friend,
My heart is not misled by plaintive sense
Nor mortal prophecy;
But looking where the perfect lens of Love
Discerns your individuality,
And where the splendor of the living God
Shines like a burst of glory
Welling from the infinite,
I find supreme content; for in this light
Your eyes will be illumined. There you too,
Attracted by the same magnificence,
May weigh its worth and find the vision true.
Poems
Through the Lens of Love
From the August 1957 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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