Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 69

Help me the slow of heart to move By some clear, winning word of love; Teach me the wayward feet to stay, And guide them in the homeward way.

Teach me thy patience! still with Thee In closer, dearer company: In work that keeps faith sweet and strong, In trust that triumphs over wrong.

In hope that sends a shining ray Far down the future's broadening way; In peace that only thou canst give, With thee, O Master, let me live.

--Washington Gladden.

There was a man who prayed For wisdom that he might Sway men from sinful ways And lead them into light.

Each night he knelt and asked the Lord To let him guide the sinful horde.

And every day he rose again, To idly drift along, One of the many common men Who form the common throng.

GRANTED OR DENIED

To long with all our longing powers, And have the wish denied; To urge and strain our force in vain Against the unresting tide Of fate and circ.u.mstance, which still Baffles and beats and thwarts our will;

To reach the goal toward which we strove All the long way and hard; To win the prize which, to our eyes, Seemed life's one best reward-- Love's rose, Fame's laurel, olived Peace, The gold-fruit of Hesperides--

And then to find the prize all vain, The joys all empty made-- To taste the sting in each sweet thing, To watch Love's roses fade, The fruit to ashes turn, the gold To worthless dross within our hold!

Now which has most of grief and pain, Which is the worse to bear: The joy we crave and never have, Or the curse of the granted prayer?

The baffled wish or the bitter rue-- Could our hearts choose between the two?

O will of G.o.d, thou blessed will!

Which, like a balmed air, The breath of souls about us rolls, Touching us everywhere, Imparting, like a soft caress, Healing, and help, and tenderness,

O will of G.o.d, be thou our will!

Then, come or joy or pain, Made one with thee it cannot be That we shall wish in vain, And, whether granted or denied, Our hearts shall be all satisfied.

--Susan Coolidge.

OUT OF TOUCH

Only a smile, yes, only a smile That a woman o'erburdened with grief Expected from you; 'twould have given relief, For her heart ached sore the while; But weary and cheerless she went away, Because, as it happened, that very day You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a word, yes, only a word, That the Spirit's small voice whispered "Speak"; But the worker pa.s.sed onward unblessed and weak Whom you were meant to have stirred To courage, devotion, and love anew, Because when the message came to you You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a note, yes, only a note To a friend in a distant land.

The Spirit said "Write," but then you had planned Some different work, and you thought It mattered little. You did not know 'Twould have saved a soul from sin and woe; You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a song, yes, only a song That the Spirit said "Sing to-night; Thy voice is thy Master's by purchased right"; But you thought, "'Mid this motley throng I care not to sing of the city of gold"-- And the heart that your words might have reached grew cold; You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a day, yes, only a day!

But oh, can you guess, my friend, Where the influence reaches, and where it will end Of the hours that you frittered away?

The Master's command is "Abide in me"

And fruitless and vain will your service be If "out of touch" with your Lord.

--Jean H. Watson.

Prayer is Innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant 'Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

We may question with wand of science, Explain, decide, and discuss; But only in meditation The Mystery speaks to us.

--John Boyle O'Reilly.

THE VALLEY OF SILENCE

I walk down the Valley of Silence, Down the dim, voiceless valley alone!

And I hear not the fall of a footstep Around me--save G.o.d's and my own!

And the hush of my heart is as holy As hovers where angels have flown.

Long ago was I weary of voices Whose music my heart could not win; Long ago was I weary of noises That fretted my soul with their din; Long ago was I weary of places Where I met but the human and sin.

And still did I pine for the perfect, And still found the false with the true; I sought 'mid the human for heaven, But caught a mere glimpse of the blue; And I wept when the clouds of the world veiled Even _that_ glimpse from my view.

And I toiled on, heart-tired of the human, And I moaned 'mid the mazes of men, Till I knelt, long ago, at an altar, And heard a Voice call me. Since then I walk down the Valley of Silence That lies far beyond mortal ken.

Do you ask what I found in the Valley?

'Tis my trysting place with the Divine.

When I fell at the feet of the Holy, And about me a voice said, "Be mine,"

There arose from the depths of my spirit An echo: "My heart shall be thine."

Do you ask how I live in the Valley?

I weep, and I dream, and I pray; But my tears are as sweet as the dew-drops That fall on the roses in May; And my prayer, like a perfume from censer, Ascendeth to G.o.d night and day.

In the hush of the Valley of Silence, I dream all the songs that I sing; And the music floats down the dim valley Till each finds a word for a wing, That to men, like the doves of the deluge The message of peace they may bring.

But far out on the deep there are billows That never shall break on the beach; And I have heard songs in the silence That never shall float into speech; And I have had dreams in the valley Too lofty for language to reach.

And I have seen thoughts in the valley-- Ah, me! how my spirit was stirred!

And they wear holy veils on their faces-- Their footsteps can scarcely be heard; They pa.s.s through the valley like virgins Too pure for the touch of a word.

Do you ask me the place of the Valley, Ye hearts that are harrowed by care?

It lieth afar, between mountains, And G.o.d and his angels are there; And one is the dark Mount of Sorrow, The other, the bright Mount of Prayer.

--Abram Joseph Ryan.

HELP THOU MY UNBELIEF

Because I seek thee not O seek thou me!

Because my lips are dumb O hear the cry I do not utter as thou pa.s.sest by, And from my lifelong bondage set me free!