The Secret of the Creation Part 3

That I might sift the sheltered sands, and gather out the gold; Strewn by the mystic hand of him, back in the days of old.

Through the hills and upon the desert, as a mighty obelisk stands, We gather out the wreaths of beauty, cast for the life of man.

The hosts stand in the distance, to observe the things that we do.

As our ridged furrows in the gray light come trailing through.

As I wrought with my comrades, I saw some jewels glitter in the sands; Ling'ring in the dust of time, to be brought within demand.

The soul is always waiting, and the heart is always true; Where the workmen seek to gather, from the dust beneath the azure lights of blue.

A High Praise

We are marching toward that city, in the great trend of mind. We see our friends gathering from over the ranges, stepping by the hours of time.

We are ascending the heights from the rivers, Lord plant our feet in thy Zion.

In the spirit in which we are calling, so shall the answer be. Each deed and day shall be answered, as our souls cry to thee. We are moving in the light of your spirit; Lord, plant our feet in thy Zion.

Lord, let us pay for our ways, in the days of our time. For unto life we shall gather from over the ranges, proven by the powers of mind. Let us ascend the heights from the rivers; Lord, plant our feet in thy Zion.

Soon our sorrows are ended, soon our woes shall cease. Our days for us shall be brighter on through the ages, ascending the hills of peace.

Lord, shall we arise beyond these sorrows? Lord, plant our feet in thy Zion.

A Praise--Speed

Some one is watching at the windows tonight, as onward through the valleys and over the rocks of white, the gleaming wheels they speed with might; calling the stars at the approach of night; concealing them away with the speed of light.

I do not know what my t.i.tle holds, because the way has been long; through the orchards and by the waste lands swifter than the shadows of the dawn. But the angel who watches through the train of time hurries all on board along.

The shadows of the evening that enclose upon the fleeting sunlight are swiftly turned away; as out of the night time the speeding wheels they sway, before the gloom that's left approaching into the light of day.

Music rings above the hill tops, from the canyons that we pa.s.sed by; while sweeping beneath the light of heaven, that beckons from the windows in the sky. Soon within the harbor the speeding monitor shall lie; then shall be the answer to the soul which shall never die.

A Praise--Reason

Here lie the brave and valiant-hearted, strewn by the pathway of the n.o.ble race.

These are our kindred whose souls linger near their dwelling place.

Here lie the stars which have fallen, from the altar of the race.

Their light still on our memories gleam, bright before our face.

These are of our people, their souls are still upon the breeze.

Death cannot them destroy, or blot out their secret memories.

Some of them were old and faded, and others were of the age of the bloom, That grows upon the lilies, and fades before the rays of noon.

But out in the mist they are waiting to greet us, and we shall welcome them once more.

Beneath the sun that shines in stillness, upon this living sh.o.r.e.

The battlements are faded, and the swords are laid aside, And he has come with his saints to reign through the ages, over the human tide.

A Meditation--Life

I see the people out on the plains--from the distance they call to me.

Come and march with us for a day, and be one of the people of the plains. Floating along with the winds that blow--the great human sea.

I love the sage and the vintage that grow, and the oaks that stand in chains. I love the music sung with the wings of the dust through the fields of chaffing grains, shadowed beneath the azure light of the hill's refrains.

Move, you angels of speed, across the white serenes. You rocks of earth stand still. You seas that lash with a turbulent rage shall all obey my will. I will watch by the things that strive and love, till all the earth be filled.

You teeming hosts a' moving on--I love the things of life. You serene glories of the sun's meridian gleam across the extending plains of white; that love and live in the dust of the earth, beneath the sun's great light.

Move you children with the speed of fire; I love those wings that sing in their strength, and might. Haste the speed of the soul that the living mind be right, you things that live in the light of the day--I hate the things of night.

Gather on the plains like clouds all spectered with black and gray. The things of speed shall dwell sublime, though the things that wait shall pa.s.s away. I shall call to those of my own in the midst of the sea; I shall wait for those that pray.

There is a light that shines with those that tell of the speed and power. Of the soul that hastens to the things of right in the days of their fleeting hours. Of the things that live in the love of light you people that is of power.

A Meditation--Our Praise

Mosier of the ages hear the children when they cry. Out on the plains they pray. Hold aright the storms that sweep over, bear the tempest far away. The chief of Jehovah's tribune--his hosts above the azure lights of gray. His spirit searches over the plains through all the souls of day.

We have a refuge in the light of the first morning, made brighter by the noon. Unfolding from Zion's harbor unto all the saints upon the spectered earth is strewn. Jehovah's gift descending through the gloom.

A great rock that was cut out above the earth, but not with hands was hewn.

Then by the river of Zion all his saints shall meet once more. The angels in their salvation shall set his children then before. When the king descends to welcome his hosts upon that living sh.o.r.e, in one speech all voices of earth his high praises shall sing while crossing over.

This is when the afterwhile has become the present, and the day to come is just now. When those who hasten to be saved before his throne they bow. The tears of grief shall be no more for ever. The call comes forth to know just how. You saints shall answer with the light of life sealed on every ransomed brow.

A Praise--A Charge to The Spirits

Blow! O blow on the rocks of time you silent winds divine. Glitter on the mountain heights you rifting specters bright. Marching on you hosts of the senless quite. Out in that day of every soul that's neither dark or light.

Know you your place and name and who it is you be. It is the hand of a higher one leads thee through eternity. A price was paid, its value true, back in the ages one day; as onward through the shadows gleam the vampires wing their way.