Poem December 21, 1946 Issue

Christ Jesus

MARY BAKER THOMPSON

Amidst the city's noisy throng
The Master walked. Above the din
He caught the note of angel song;
He heard the still, small voice within.

He saw the multitudes who came
To touch the garment's healing hem.
No praise he sought, no word of fame;
His work, to bless each one of them.

The wilderness, the desert place,
The mountaintop he likewise knew,
And those who seek may humbly trace
The way in which compassion grew.

Still troubled multitudes implore,
And still the healing Christ is here;
Still waits for all open door,
And still the Word of God is clear.

Amidst the city's noisy throng
The Christ, Truth, dwells. Above the din
The listening ear may catch the song
Of that small, silent voice within.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

Demand and Supply Coincident

December 21, 1946

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit