Poems

' T is true God comes to us in quiet moments When sense is hushed, and thought in silent prayer Is tuned to catch the wondrous strain which sweetens The daily task, or stress of seeming care. Oh, for the healing touch of heavenly angels Which lifts the consciousness to heights above; And through the Christ unfolds a purer impulse— The heart's desire to prove that Life is Love! Dear Father-Mother God! Thou leadest ever In rising tones of tenderness and strength, Beyond all discord into pure conception Of heaven's eternal harmonies, at length.

Oh , with what tender grace the Master smiled, As in his arms he took a little child And set him in the midst! And then he turned Upon his wondering friends a look that burned With love the flimsy tatters of their pride. Unstriving, modest, happy, at his side The child's unconscious, unassuming worth Wrought in those hearts the work of the new birth, And each, a little child, e'en as of yore, Stood, trustful, at his mother's knee once more.

" To-day my soul can only sing and soar," page 174 The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, by Mary Baker Eddy, page 174 In freedom sing, in life newborn Sing joyfully of hope and faith and praise Of Him whose gracious spirit blesses us In omnipresent peace and power. And singing soar; soar high to heaven's gate, Unhampered by the world of sense, Unleashed from human will and earth-born pride, Wing, free, into the ethereal vast of God's Unmeasured space—eternity.

To grow, and still to grow, in wisdom, love, and power, Nearer divinity with each new day, each passing hour; To conquer petty faults and littleness; To gain in Love's strong school, patience and tenderness; In the divine and highest law at last to come Into the soul grown free—our Master's home.

When the healing truth of the Word to-day Takes sickness and sin from our lives away, And reveals true man in God's image made, As pure and deathless and unafraid; As we learn these truths that the Master taught, Do we return with the joy they brought, And kneel before him in grateful thought, Or are we but of the graceless nine? Oh, ''where are the nine?" Is not each of them mine? But none has returned to me: "Where are the nine"?

A circle! Symbol of eternity, Of Life that ne'er began, nor ever ends. Round it we read in language clear and plain Our work, the test of our sincerity.

"For ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls. "— I Peter 2:25.

The lowly grass we tread beneath our feet A quiet lesson gives, So selfless, so unchiding, gentle, sweet, It teaches as it lives. By dusty roads where many a weary drove Knows its refreshing worth, It finds its meek possession, shared in love, Its heritage of earth.

God made man free! O ringing words That lift my soul above the senses' sway And open wide to me the heavenly gates! There may I soar above beliefs Of trammeling flesh, And ever find My perfect self, forever one with Thee! God made man free! Fear cannot stand Before the mighty presence of His love. Fear is illusion.

Like bird on radiant wing in skyward flight, high soaring, My thought goes forth, unfettered, joyous, free; Higher and higher it reaches up, outpouring, In gift of gratitude, in wondrous melody. To Thee, dear Giver of all gifts, the perfect and the true, Father of lights, serene, unchanging, sure, I rise on wings of faith; with gratitude I view The heaven of Thy joy, where every thought is pure.