Poems

The following lines are chiefly interrogatory, and cordially invite answer in rhyme on the subject they broach, from any "whom it may concern. " What is it that leads us so astray? We know the right, but do the wrong: Shunning the "strait and narrow way," In devious paths behold earth's throng! We are not deaf, nor are we blind: We know how fatal is the way; But something base in mortal mind Makes virtuous purpose easy prey.

No gain is lost; the clear-eyed saints look down Untroubled on the wreck of schemes and creeds; Love yet remains, its rosary of good deeds Counting in task-field and o'erpeopled town. Truth has charmed life; the Inward Word survives, And, day by day, its revelation brings; Faith, hope, and charity, whatsoever things Which cannot be shaken, stand.

The Shepherdess calls the sheep! Where have they gone astray, The long and cloudy day? Around the big earth-ball, Thrills the clear, gentle call,— The Shepherdess seeking the sheep. The lambs are cold and numb, The wolves have wasted the fold, (In sheep-skin as of old) And not since Galilee, From blue Tiberian sea, Has such a summons come! Oh, tender as the wind of May That woos the buds to bloom, And stirs their dear perfume; As strong as Sun's demand That clouds forsake the land, She calls them, night and day!

Brave Christian soldiers, gallantly marching. Joyfully singing all the bright way, Gird on your armor, follow your Leader, Jesus commands you and you must obey.

We have boiled the hydrant water, We have sterilized the milk; We have strained the prowling microbe Through the finest kind of silk. We have bought and we have borrowed Every patent health device, And at last the doctor tells us That we've got to boil the ice.

The full seven days are completed, And the dawn of a new day appears, When Mary and Magdalene, coining, Are seeking the Light thro' their tears. With the oil of Heaven's inspiration, And the perfume— the richness of Love, They have come in the hush of the morning, Their devout consecration to prove.

If the Lord your habitation, And your dwelling has been made, Nothing evil shall befall you, Neither can you be afraid. Angels shall be round about you.

Thou little Book! what depths divine Of Life, and Truth, and Love, Mark all thy pages, fill each line, And lift the thought above Earth's sordid things, its emptiness. Its tumult, sin and strife, Its pain and woe—deceitfulness, To the real things of Life.

It is the morning of the Sabbath-day, The light is breaking through with golden ray, I must awake, the glorious Truth to see, For God and Love are coming near to me. I must press through the crushing throng of thought, And hear the Word by Revelation brought, Reach out and touch its holy garment, white, Knowing I shall again receive my sight.

Once it was the blessing, now it is the Lord, Once it was the feeling, now it is His Word, Once His gifts I wanted, now the Giver own, Once I sought for healing, now, Himself alone. Once 'twas painful trying, now 'tis perfect trust, Once a half salvation, now the uttermost; Once 'twas ceaseless holding, now He holds me fast, Once 'twas constant drifting, now my anchor's cast.