Poems

Here in the battle's din I hear God's Word; No other sound is heard. The strife is stilled, And I am filled With consciousness of immortality.

Once shone a star in Bethlehem's dark night, When angels sang of glory in each ray. While Wisemen from the East beheld the light, And shepherds knelt in humble joy to pray.

Above the tumult of the earth, Though peace may seem afar, Can still be heard the heavenly song And still be seen the star! Oh, may we, as the Magi wise, Have hearing ears and seeing eyes.

Light the candle, stand it tall, And set no Christmas tree beside it; Let only this brave light be all— No tinsel string or frosted glass to hide it. O boy, upon far battlefield, This candle is to herald dawn, To signify for Truth another shield, And God forever with His son.

How can we thankful be for everything Which comes into the heart's experience — Life's disappointments, discords, griefs, which fling A pall around our joy and drive it hence? Can we be thankful when the world is sad, Wracked with the pain of sorrow, want and fear, Sin and destruction? Can the heart be glad When men are losing all that life holds dear? I ponder, and the answer comes with light: In everything give thanks—not for the sin, The blackness, and the terror of the night; But in the midst of evil's wrath and din We can stand firm, knowing its claims are nought. Truth, understood, dispels their seeming power; And in this wisdom, with salvation fraught.

Up , up on strong wing, O bird, Into the light. No fetters bind you to the earth, Nor stop your flight.

A host of error compassed them about, A host of fear, uncertainty, and doubt; And then they turned their thoughts unto the Lord, And humble faith in good was thus restored. With hymns of grateful praise their voices rang; The enemy was routed as they sang.

How gently now the winds of God are blowing, How quietly the streams of Life are flowing; How lovely Love, so infinite and tender, Since I glimpsed heaven through my own surrender!

Let us ascend into the brightening light And point our way toward the shining peak Of Science. As the wild bird climbs in flight Above his first low leveling pace of wing, Let us lift faith to Spirit's zenith height— A proven faith, enduring and alert With truth, burned pure in demonstration's might.

" Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" Why fear we then that mankind can lose aught Of lasting value? Always, wrong has brought To pass its own destruction; always, might When based on cruel force has lost the fight At last. Let us now consecrate each thought To make the battle swift and sure.