Questions & Answers
Not by entreaty shall I ask For happiness to warm and light My daily journey's every task. My plea shall speak in kindly deeds, Forgetting self and human will, That meet with joy another's needs; In thought that, as the summer rain Drops sweet refreshment on the land, Can bring release from grief and pain; In consciousness of Love that lives In every pure and Christly hope, And increase of high purpose gives; In psalms, unframed by mortal tongue, That blessed healing shall bestow All earthly scenes of men among— Not in mere words! My journey trod, A living and unceasing prayer: A prayer of gratitude to God!
Ever alert to do his Lord's command, Whether to stand and wait, or forward go, He strives obediently, his staff in hand, To use the wisdom God doth e'er bestow, In all humility. With feet full-shod with peace, he thinks aright; Endued with faith, he knows that Truth divine Doth banish fear and shine through darkest night.
A friend gave it to me. What was the gift which came to thee, A cup of kindness and sweet sympathy, Red roses or a sprig of rosemary? A cheerful word, a helping hand— Small things we love and understand.
Along the pathway of my life Shadows appeared to me. I slower walked and pondered them, Darker they seemed to be.
How oftentimes he must have watched, With patient eyes and still, The shepherds guarding close their sheep Upon some lonely hill, The while he yearned to gather men— This shepherd long ago— Into his Father's pastures green, Where peaceful waters flow! How oft at eventide when flocks Came bleating to the fold Where they were safe from savage beasts, And wind, and storm, and cold, He must have thought of mansions bright With room enough for all, Would they but hear his tender voice, And follow at his call! I like to think of him today— This shepherd wise and kind— Who labored well that we, his sheep, Safe pasturage might find Within the Father's sheltered fields, Within the Father's care, Where winds are tempered when they blow, And lack is never there.
Light is the real, and darkness is the lie; Serene, unchanging, stands the constant sun; The earth is turning, turning to the light; Far, far behind stream back the leagues of night, Forgotten, every one. Our Jesus fought a night of bitter woe, So long, so dark, where not a star was born; He faced the terrors of a pit unknown, Held to the truth that would redeem his own, And lo, 'twas Easter morn! Come, let us say "Our Father," and be sure He hears us in the dark as in the day; The everlasting arms are very kind, And infinitely tender the one Mind— Now, let me hear you pray! See where the first faint radiance tips the hill, Now that the east's dark curtain is withdrawn.
He lay forlorn beside those waters gray, More hopeless still he grew with passing time, The saddest of them all—who day by day Waited there, watching for the healing sign. And then upon a day came one who spoke Words of command, and he was quick to hear; A light upon those darkened senses broke, He rose, made whole and free from pain and fear.
As birds that fly, so let our thought aspire By faith into the infinite of peace, Rise swiftly from the spread nets of desire, And find divine deliverance and release. Let subtle tempters set their lure in vain, Who seek to slay, by whom the net is spread; With clear sight of the refuge we may gain, The gift of wings delivers us from dread.
O Father , God, unfathomable wisdom, I bring my childish planning unto Thee, And I will listen as in utter patience. Thou dost dissolve its ambiguity In the clear light of Science, so that I The oneness of Thy purpose may discern.
And thou shalt be like a watered garden, And like a spring of water thou shalt be, A watered garden's tranquillizing beauty, A spring of water's pure felicity! And thou shalt bless thy neighbor and the stranger— An oasis, a paradise of worth, A joy-attended, ceaseless inspiration, A planting of thy God's to bless the earth!