Poems

Are we really grateful for the good we have received? And has it made us more unselfed to see our brother's need? How often every day do we sincerely pray, "Not my will, Lord, but Thine be done," and mean just what we pray? Have we truly availed ourselves of blessings already given us, Gone not one mile but two with those who seem to want to hurt us? Herein is Love's own law that fits us to have more, But disobeyed it shuts us off from Love's wide-upon door.

Sunlit the hour, time ago, When a figure came walking, Backed by the light, In a robe of white. Joyous the shout of, "Welcome! Come in, come in!" when they saw him.

The Bible promise stands: Those who believe In God and do His will in all their ways— Even in their asking—shall receive Abundantly of good. Should we not praise The source of all true blessing for His grace In sending us His Son to show us how We may behold our Maker face to face By seeing man as God's own likeness now? What does it mean to trust in God alone? If we believe in Him, can we know fear? If we dread evil, then we must atone In suffering—for doubt that God is here.

Thought molded By Pharisee, Walking apart, Cold of heart— Unaware of the hurt, Of the smart; Here where the dead Bury their dead There is no place Where the Son of man Can lay his head. Those afraid Of the jeering throng, Of the mocker's song, Dare not wing For the fetterless flight Up to the height Of the Love that knows No foes.

To mortal sense came evening. Then from far Above the deepest shadow Appeared a star, A searchlight in the grayness, A beacon ray So strong that suddenly I knelt to pray.

Let not this word be narrowed to define Within its scope only the outward line And attitude of person, motion, art; Nor yet what paganism sets apart Personified in human shape as three Proud deities of Greek mythology; Nor yet what classifying thinking places In groups as social or as mental graces, Meticulously pigeonholed in high Neat finiteness. But let it signify That infinite and single grace which "came By Jesus Christ," triumphant; let it name That wide unmeasured mercy wherewith Truth Rejects the eye-for-eye and tooth-for-tooth Of callous Pharisaic computation; Let grace describe the tide of demonstration Which flowed unebbingly where Jesus' word, At urgent call of human need, conferred Hearing and sight, activity and peace, For every kind of lack, the quick release Of God's impartial love.

Know ye not that ye are not your own? That ye are God-possessed, and all unknown To God are false beliefs of pain and fear; For all came forth from Love, and Love is near? Man belongs to God—oh, freeing thought! What heights, what views belong to man, for nought Can bind God's child when he lays down his care And feels Love's peace around him everywhere.

It is easy to pay the fare to Tarshish, to hand out silver and gold; it is easy to take a ship to Tarshish and go down into the hold, and there to sleep in the ship of Tarshish, as Jonah slept of old. But they who follow God's directing a different price must pay: they must listen ever for His voice and, hearing it, obey; they must stand always on the watch by night as well as day.

" He fashioneth their hearts alike"— O glorious thought! One God and Father of us all Makes evil nought. Not by wish for place and power Or selfish greed, Not by multitude and host, Is mankind freed.

Beholding him, the Master loved him well, This rich young man who even from childhood up Had lived discreetly in the fear of God, This rich but meek young man who running came! How seldom do the rich find need to run! And now the Master wished for one as earnest No bitter drop in a cup so far so sweet; No loss but durable riches, home and heaven. To sell the trivial and these riches buy, He counseled, but the young man turned away— Who might have walked with angels comradely, In strange and heartbreak silence turned away! Why sorrowful, we question as we read— His wealth was still his own, each coin was safe, But here, if ever, was true cause for grief: The bright, the perfect vision, almost held, The nearly-uttered, peace-bestowing choice, Were past! A door that opened to his knock Showing the lovely things of home, of heaven, Had closed! Small wonder he was sorrowful, Walking again the garish, earthy road.