Poems

SOUND over all waters, reach out from all lands, The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands; Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of the morn, Sing songs of the angels when Jesus was born! With glad jubilations Bring hope to the nations! The dark night is ending and dawn has begun: Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! Sing the bridal of nations with chorals of love Sing out the war-vulture and sing in the dove, Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord, And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord Clasp hands of the nations In strong gratulations; The dark night is ending and the dawn has begun! Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace; East, west, north, and south let the quarrel cease; Sing the song of great joy that the angels began, Sing of glory to God and of good-will to man! Hark! joining in chorus The heavens bend o'er us! The dark night is ending and dawn has begun Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! —Whittier .

" Do you wish for kindness? Be kind; Do you ask for truth? Be true, What you give of yourself, you find; Your world is a reflex of you. For life is a mirror.

The birds in the branches sang blithe overhead, 'Twas the rarest of days in June; But I caught no joy from the warbler's lay. Though the strains were sweet, and gladsome, and gay, They woke no response, and they passed away, For my heart was out of tune.

AND throned on her hills sits Jerusalem yet, But with dust on her forehead, and chains on her feet; For the crown of her pride to the mocker hath gone, And the holy Shechinah is dark where it shone. But wherefore this dream of the earthly abode Of Humanity clothed in the brightness of God? Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim, It could gaze, even now, on the presence of Him! Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when, In love and in meekness, He moved among men; And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea In the hush of my spirit would whisper to me! And what if my feet may not tread where He stood, Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee's flood, Nor my eyes see the cross which He bowed Him to bear, Nor my knees press Gethsemane's garden of prayer.

THERE'S an eye beyond the human, That beholdeth only good. That sees God's vast creation, And man's real brotherhood.

Jealousy is dangerous selfishness. The heart writes its lines on the face.

HE whom now the Son makes free, No more in sorrow bowed shall be; For now our Master makes it plain, That joy, no sorrow can contain. The Harmony to earth thus brought, From no material source is sought; For matter's claims denied must be, Before the Son can make us free.

The liquid notes of harmony From Nature's feathered choir; The softened hues of eve; the brilliant morn; The sweet caressing winds, spiced with the breath of bloom; The whispering leaves; the nodding pendant boughs; The glowing sky; the snow white isles of feathery down; The waving fields; the silvery, rippling lake; The river winding to the sea; the hills, Sun-kissed, rock-ribbed, majestic, grand; The quiet sheltered vales with blossoms strewn; All speak the gentle tenderness and peace Of Nature's sweet unselfishness, and voice The Love Divine. And thus through Mother's Love—the Way, the Truth, the Life, We mortals learn the sweet divinity of gratitude; The lesson of unselfishness; The sweetness of existence for the Good alone; The consciousness of Christ's immortal bonds; The Brotherhood of Man; the Motherhood of God; The loyalty of Principle; the unity of Love, And though on earth, we breath the atmosphere of Heaven, And live and move in Love.

O Brother , rise! Cast off thy chains, be free! O Son of the Most High, be not deceived! Thou ne'er wert born a slave,—look up and see! Look up and find thy heavy heart relieved. Cast off the flimsy bands of craven fear! Thy God is Love who all thy steps doth guide! Lay hold on Him with trust both calm and clear.

The following poem was written by a blind Irish girl of a past generation. It outlines the world's woes, and asks the old, pathetic question,—to which Christian Science is the answer.