Poems

From mystic latitudes Of earth and sky, at such an hour as this, The breath of Love is blown across our thought. In the silence and serenity of night, Voices that in the din of day are mute Bring to us messages of peace and joy, In softer syllables than sweetest song.

I roamed abroad, beneath the gathering light Of springtide moon and stars, whose wondrous show Of beauty o'er the firmament of night, Filled my rapt heart to tearful overflow. The zephyr voices breathed a flowing song Of praise more sweet than ever art of man Could frame in word or music, and along The tender sky, an unsubstantial span Of cloud, as faint as foam that flecks the sea, Lay, like heaven's smile, above earth's shadowed face; And all things, filled with holy ecstasy, Seemed to give thanks for this most perfect grace, I too gave thanks, that thus 'twas given to me This onward sign of heavenly Love to see.

Draw freely from the store of Love each day And with no thought of saving, cast away Thy love-deeds, lavishly, without a care; The more thou giv'st of love, the more thy share Enlargeth. And thou need'st not wonder where Or when to give; give always, here and there.

When from night's loom the shadows deep unroll, Make thou accounting; question thus the soul: "Hast thou lent aught of thy God-trusted wealth, To bring thy fellow unto peace or health? Hast laid a balm to heal some sore hurt heart, Withdrawn, despairing, from the press apart? Hast shot a smile athwart misfortune's frown; Or lifted up the brother, Wrong cast down?" If none of these be done, thy deeds were naught; It boots not with what toil thy day was fraught. W.

Is the Spirit good seed sowing? Let it grow. Do not fret about its growing, God doth know.

Where throve the choking tares, I gather golden wheat; Where loomed a wall of sordid cares, I pass with winged feet. 'Tis Faith that bursts the seed, 'Tis Love that turns the sod The rain that falls is mercy's meed, The sun, the smile of God.

It is the province of spiritual sense to govern man. Science and Health, p.

I SEEM so blind, I do not always see The cloud by day, nor glowing fire by night That thou hast said should mark the way for me, And lead me on to Thine eternal light. Such sweet desires spring up beside the way, I turn aside, O Lord, to make them mine; They perish soon, they live but for a day, And so I know these joys were never Thine.

Let me but do my work from day to day, In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place, or tranquil room; Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, "This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; Of all who live, I am the one by whom This work can best be done, in the right way. " Then shall I see it not too great nor small To suit my spirit and to prove my powers; Then shall I cheerful greet the laboring hours, And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall At eventide, to play and love and rest, Because I know for me my work is best.

"Ride on! ride on in majesty!" Thou who the way of Life hath shown So that the world may have its own— Be one with thee, and death dethrone. "Ride on! ride on in majesty!" Thou art the Truth that maketh free, And thus in thee we ever see The palms! the palms of victory! "Ride on! ride on in majesty!" They who their garments spread for thee Stand for all men as they will be When in the City Heavenly.