Poem December 5, 1901 Issue

Shadows

BY ANNIE MARIE BLISS.

IN my path a shadow lay,
Stretched before me long and dark;
And I feared the next step onward,
With a heaviness of heart.

And I tripped and stumbled blindly
Over stones I could not see;
When a voice of silver sweetness
Called from overhead to me:—

"Turn about, O weary traveler,
Face the sunlight of God's day;
'Tis yourself that casts the shadow
That is darkening your way.

"Face the light, so shall the shadow
Lay behind thee,—seen no more;
And the stones o'er which you stumbled
Shall lead up to Heaven's door."

As I turned to hear the message,
Slowly moved the shadow, too.
"Could it be," I thought in wonder,
"That the angel voice spake true?"

Yes, 'twas self that cast the shadow,
I have proved it many a time;
For I'm facing God's bright sunlight,
And the shadow lays behind.

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