Poems

In the beginning God created all, Evolved by infinite, omniscient Mind, Whose manifold ideas, great and small, Their permanence in heavenly mandate find. Dear wanderer in void and formless night, Have you not heard God's voice, and understood The imperative command, "Let there be light"? That light is constant, all-availing good.

Not in one year, the God of Israel said, Will I, before you, drive the evil out; By little and by little shall it go, Lest desolate the present land become; By little and by little shall it go, Lest savage beasts against you multiply; By little and by little shall it go, Until, at last, in strength you are increased. Then you shall take your full inheritance, Then you shall know your habitation sure, Within the land, the promised land of old, By your own firm, unflinching efforts won.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence Cometh my help. —Psalms 121:1 My eyes are on the hills, False sense melts fast away.

My Father, God, help me, I pray, To climb the steep and rugged way With footstep firm and courage fine, To rest my willing hand in Thine And joyous mount the upward way. O Mother, God, help me to see That brooding Love rests over me; Let me be swift in word and deed To meet with love my brother's need, Because Thy grace encircles me! Dear Father-Mother, God, no fear Can overtake my journey here.

Awakened sons of God, behold the light That calls you home and quells the sense of loss. When truth has been revealed our fears take flight— Become as dreams indeed, and count as dross.

Though it tarry, it will come, Vision infinite and pure, God-sent light to guide men home, Love's protection, safe and sure. Tarry though the vision may, Wait for it and do not weep.

No barn, no storehouse, have they for their goods, No place for treasure, but God feedeth them. The eternal Father careth for His own, He knows their needs, their many human needs, And pitiful, He comforts them that grieve.

Be ye thankful, Christian host, For heard above the raging storm That would embrace the stricken earth The voice of Love wakes true and warm. Thankful be that joy and hope And quiet haven wait for all Who turn away from tents of woe To hear and heed the Master's call.

When I am tempted, God, to think Or speak a word unkind, Help me to purify my thought, And evil motives bind With words of love and helpfulness That show the way of Mind. When I am tempted, God, to spurn The sinner by the way, Help me to down self-righteousness; Enable me, I pray, To help the fallen one to stand And walk the Christly way.

Sweet sacred place, the Sunday school, Where budding thoughts unfold to new And higher steps to God. Oh, may we work in this dear place Reflecting patience, love, and grace.