Poems

Rejoice, O heavens; rejoice, O earth! Break forth in songs of gladness! In ev'ry heart may hope have birth To banish care and sadness. Lo! o'er the vale of sense and gloom The sun of Truth is breaking! For Christ is here, and Christ is dear, In Truth's all-glorious waking.

Forgiving Spirit, Love divine, I rest my trembling hand in Thine. Thou art the Light, The Truth, the might Of law, whose will is right.

A prophet's voice cried in the long-past ages: Oh, "comfort ye my people, saith your God;" But priest and sage have sealed the prophet's pages,— Themselves and all of comfort they defraud. The people wander still in barren places, And hunger for the good that 's undenied; They heavenward turn their sad and weary faces, And pray—for what already is supplied.

There's just one Love o'er all,— One pure, unchanging Love! Yet it speaks through the heart of God's children; And the measureless power thereof Is a balm for earth's trouble and anguish, A mantle of peace for her fear; And the light and the joy of Love's presence Forever and ever are here.

Will the call to service find you Ready with the answer there: Send me, Lord, into Thy vineyard, Let me help Thy way prepare? Do you wait that some great service, May be asked to-day of you? How can God intrust His message Into hands not proven true? Let us then with hearts o'erflowing Bring our talents to the Lord, Where He sends us gladly going, Always ready at His word.

The day seemed dark, and clouds hung black as night; Life seemed all struggle, fight came after fight; Friends seemed unkind, and discord reigned within; And everywhere seemed sickness, want, and sin. "Look up! Awake! These are not thoughts of Life; Love bids you rise above this human strife; Good is the real, no matter what may seem; Shake off the spell, the false material dream.

Our Father God, refine Thou our desires; Give us the strength and courage that can dare To face with joy even the cleansing fires, Since Thou art there. O Mother God, give us compassion's eyes That, conquering all illusion, clearly see Man as Thy glorious child, lowly yet wise, Reflecting Thee.

Dear God, for all that Thou hast ever sent me. My heart goes out to Thee in gratitude.

As Enoch walked with God in days of yore, In that he sought "for things above the floor," Poems, by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 38.

'Tis the glad messengers of Truth release From fetters false of sorrow, sin, disease, Poor struggling hearts 'mid ills that sense reports. His "still small voice" inspires with healing thoughts, And leads to higher views, to know His might, To see His tender, loving care, the light Of Love that knows no fear.