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Love at the helm

From the February 2012 issue of The Christian Science Journal


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Love under and over, within and without
 Lifting and filling, my white sail taut
 My mast bends—though anchored strong
 Through meekness it lends Love’s primal song 

Humble rudder, Love’s still small voice
 Mortals need not shudder, immortals rejoice!
 The wind may blow, the earth may quake
 My ship lies low in Love’s pure wake

There’s a shout, Land ahoy!
 My sail still taut, girded with joy
 Ship ready for anchor—sail to be folded and stored
 Is destiny met, do I pull for the shore?

Yonder the vale, verdant pasture
 Will this wind fill my sail, will my rudder discover?
 Will I hear the call—that still, small voice?
 Will my mast stand tall, and is there a choice?

Peace, be still
 Not my will
 With God at the helm, a magnificent source
 A spiritual realm, Love sets my course.

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