Questions & Answers
O Son of man, what thoughts had'st thou, As near some solemn mountain brow, Out in the dreary wilderness, alone Thou did'st abide in prayer? But One There was with whom thou mightst commune. Did doubts or fears at times thy heart assail, To try thee; if like other mortals frail Thou could'st be tempted to give up the fight, And let the evil over-rule the right? Did there come nights when darkness would enshroud, When all around seemed naught but one dark cloud; When hope seemed blotted out, and when thy task Seemed but some great mistake, and thou would'st ask, " Why am I here? What good can I attain? Do not my efforts now seem all in vain? Why am I thus shut out from all my race? Must I not meet my fellows face to face If I would give them aid? How long doth seem this night, will morn ne'er rise And send some brighter gleam across the skies? Still would'st thou struggle on through night, through day, And as temptations 'rose, cast them away Behind thy back, and say, "Thus it is written.
We bend uncovered, as the dawn Rolls back the curtains of the night. The dark'ning shadows all are gone Mid morning's glow of golden light.
O Thou Supreme, Eternal Good! Thou art Life and Love, the Divine Infinitude. In Thee alone is All that truly is.
"And the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. "— John 10: 4.
I feel the heart-throbs of a Life Divine, Still sweeping on through Nature's corridors, And hear the gentle voice of Truth and Love Which wakes the earth to beauty, bloom and song. The fragrant winds, the glistening new-born leaves, The low of cattle on a thousand hills,— The whole earth redolent with joyous song From God's own feathered choir, which soars and sings Through cloudless skies, palpitant with a light Which bathes the world in gentleness and peace,— Sing to the waiting heart a song of rest, And Nature's Diapason grandly swells With God"s own jubilate,— "Good is my God; My God is Good; From "Pond and Purpose," by Rev.
Two little girls living in Kansas recently sent for use in the Bible in "Mother's Room," a tasteful book mark of white satin, about three inches wide by nine inches long, having printed thereon the following beautiful and appropriate poem of John G. Whittier's :— "And so, I find it well to come, For deeper rest, to this still room; For here the habit of the soul Feels less the outer world's control; The strength of mutual purpose pleads More earnestly our common needs; And from the silence multiplied By these still forms on every side, The world that time and sense has known Falls off and leaves us God alone.
My thought on the Mother Church has resolved itself into two parts,—namely, the Material, and the Spiritual. The following from Shakespeare and Dr.
The Church was thronged— Sunny-haired children, nestling 'neath Mother's sheltering arm—ruddy youth— Manhood in its pride—and heads Silvered o'er with years, all gathered At "call of chimes" to hear the "Word of God. " Stilled—was the Organ's tone—the people humbly Bowed the head in silent prayer.
O Thou Who art all in Unity, May we Thy creatures be Like Thee, one in diversity: Yet one, as born of Thee. From Thee the whole creation springs, Of Thee, and in Thy Mind it lives.
Let me no wrong or idle word Unthinking say; Set thou a seal upon my lips, Just for to-day, Lo, for to-morrow and its needs I do not pray: But keep me, guide me, love me, Lord, Just for to-day. — Selected.