Poems

He walked with God; the first Of all the patriarchs thus to know The divine presence. Did he stand At evening in the dusk, and looking up Into the vast and starry dome of heaven, Commune with Principle, and see The harmony and ordered beauty Of His plan? Did he in midnight hour Pace the rough flagstone court And battling with false claims of sin and death Feel His dear nearness, know His mighty strength and power, And healed and comforted, lie down to rest? And in the dawn's clear brightness Did he rise to feel the light of Truth Break in his heart, and spreading wide, Send out a warming glow of hope and joy? All these he must have known Even as we who feel His love In Truth's triumphant hour; who know The Comforter at hand to save and bless, Who prove His power and humbly walk with Him.

Now Peter, at the hour of prayer (Disciple John is likewise there), Draws near the temple gate, aware Of many gathered. For an alm This pleading manner, outstretched palm, Beggars of golden coin as balm! One, lame from birth, gives instant heed When Peter clearly reads his need.

Long ago a Hebrew leader, called of God to help mankind Out of bondage into freedom by the mighty power of Mind, Had an order from the Father to proceed to Egypt's shores To emancipate His people from inhuman, cruel laws. True the task seemed overwhelming, and he knew that he must pray, And God answered, "I will teach thee all that thou wilt have to say.

I paused to wait on God a golden moment. At once the joy of heaven itself was mine; Resting in holy Love's protecting presence, My consciousness was one with the divine.

" Peace on earth," the angels sang At Jesus' birth. To manhood grown Upon the mount in Galilee He taught how men may lift their thought To heights of Spirit's calm.

God's law of harmony reveals all good As potency of Truth is understood. In earth's vicissitudes comes Love to bless; We find a table in the wilderness!

Two men went to the temple to pray. The story we have read a hundred times, And even while its lesson we imbibed, We still thanked God that we ourselves Had nothing of the Pharisee in thought, Yet were not sure we wished to be Just like the humble publican; Too lowly seemed his calling.

When gratitude with its transforming grace Is given entrance into thought, no night So dark, no gloom so dense, but that Its radiance can say, "Let there be light. " Its presence soon dispels discouragement; Sweet peace it brings where discord seemed to reign, And swings ajar the door to harmony As with it strength and courage come again.

Since Love is substance, then am I fed by Love, as was that hungry multitude who watched expectant at our Master's feet, and twelve earth's basketsful were taken up; then am I clothed in Love, as was the Master on that clear hillside when all his raiment, shining like the sun, gleamed whiter far than any earthly seam; then am I all-supplied with Love, as Peter, hurrying to the blue lake's edge and casting in his hook, astonished found and strode back marveling; then am I housed in Love, as (while the anxious fishers shrank from that black storm) their Master in the stern rested unfearing in his heavenly home; then am I with Love environed, as when the assaulting crowd that would have cast the gentle Preacher from that dizzy brink could find no victim for their mindless rage; then am I with Love befriended. Bravely their Lord in his most bitter hour assured those faithless few so quick to flee: Lo, I am not alone; my Father's here.

Thought is a wondrous crucible, Wherein ores dull and gray May be transmuted into gems Of truth to light our way. There lurking doubt becomes true faith That gleams like stars above; There sorrow is transformed to joy; There hate is turned to love.