Poems

Over Antonia tower the stars hung low, As though to pierce with their Judean light The cheerless cell where Peter lay in chains, Guarded by Roman soldiery. Already James had been slain to appease the incited Jews, And at tomorrow's dawn the prisoner's fate Would be decreed by Herod.

Who was Malachi? Shepherd? Prophet? Statesman? Who can say?— Voicing enduring truth, precious, vital, immanent, then As today. Malachi—messenger pseudonym or name? Let it suffice, he came— Came with a vision foreseeing the coming of John.

I wonder what your thoughts were When you heard That Paul had chosen you To bear his words Of admonition To the church at Rome. Perhaps you felt, as we felt today, When some important work confronted us, That you were poorly fitted for the task.

Sense said she could not meet today's demands. But with Love's help she quickly broke such bands; She saw so many she could bless and cheer Whose way might otherwise seem drab and drear.

The purest sense of Truth is crystal clear; It shines within the gentle, childlike mind. While complicated theories leave men blind, The simple thought can know that God is near.

You ask what makes me glad To be alive? What sun Or star or kind of friend, Or shape of thing to come, Is wellspring of my joy? No, Thomas. None of these.

How kind the grass has been To my wayfaring feet; How often have the flowers Refreshed with fragrance sweet, The great rock shelter given, The sunshine cheered my way— And yet how often I Have, thankless, gone my way. And will the grass then be Less kind unto my feet, The sun refuse to shine, The flowers withhold their sweet? And, wherefore, should I say— When friends unfaithful prove, Ungrateful or unkind— "I will no longer love"? We have no power to change Man's God-appointed role, More than sun, rock, or flower Their part in the great whole.

The sculptor learns to see and trace Beneath the accidents of mood The salient character of face, The underlying certitude, And fashions for essential norm A bold integrity of form. The engineer and architect Conform the slant of every line To poised proportion and reject, As opposite to their design, The vagrancy of every flaw Which thwarts the unity of law.

Jesus was seen by the light of morning, But in the night came resurrection. There in the thickness of the gloom That filled the solemn, silent tomb He proved eternal man's perfection.

All that he owned he sold to buy One pearl of priceless worth, This merchantman whose treasures were The riches of the earth. "Better the one," he reasoned thus, "Greater than all the rest, Better the one than the many," he said, "When that one is the best.