Questions & Answers
Oh, the morn is bright and the song is gay That flows from each tuneful throat, While the storms and snows of yesterday Are forgot in the birds' clear note; And joyous the song each heart may sing That sees God's love in everything. Oh, life is sweet, now the way looks clear And each day in gladness breaks; For the dream-clouds melt with their ghosts of fear As each to the truth awakes, Singing the song that all may sing Who see Love mirrored in everything.
Fresh and green from the rotting roots Of primal forest the young growth shoots; From the death of the old the new proceeds, And the life of truth from the rot of creeds: On the ladder of God, which upward leads, The steps of progress are human needs. For His judgments still are a mighty deep, And the eyes of His providence never sleep: When the night is darkest He gives the morn; When the famine is sorest, the wine and corn! Whittier.
When I have bowed my every thought to Thine, When I can see with inner light divine That all Thou art is here and now and mine,— Then I am free. When I above all sin and passion rise, And thought with Thee is raised unto the skies, And trustingly my hand within Thine lies,— Then I am free.
O thou bereft, and brooding o'er the past, Today the Christ is calling tenderly: Here in the present all of good thou hast,— Naught can be lost that Love hath given thee. The words, "I will not leave you comfortless," Fulfilment bring, from sorrow setteth free.
' Tis but a little while, and I shall know Whereto Thy gentle hand is leading me. With joyous, willing footsteps I shall go To meet each task, for there I shall meet Thee.
A king of ancient day once fell asleep, And in his dream was told that 'neath a steep Of towering earth there was a wondrous stone, More rare indeed than king had ever known. And if this hidden gem so rich in wealth He fain would find, that go he must in stealth And dig deep down with all his might and main.
The summer's gentle breeze has given place To the triumphant winter's blustering blast. With darkening clouds the sky is overcast, That hide from view the sun's benignant face, And faded all the summer's tender grace Before the winter's devastation vast.
Between two thieves, yesterday and tomorrow, Time holds today, a trembler on a cross. One taunts with good remote, and coming sorrow, One mocks with offered cup of lees and dross.
" Nay , I will not believe,— it was not he; Ye may not me cajole to things unseen To grant a blind consent: I need to see And handle with my hands. It ne'er has been That one whose heart the Roman spear-point keen Has torn and sundered — whom the enshrouding grave Long nights and days enfolded fast, I ween — Should break his bonds and leave his lonesome cave; Nay, tell your dream to babes, such childish tales who crave.
Time is a generous-hearted friend, Who gives us from his ample store A largess for our greater good. Which rightly used but reaps us more.