Poem March 25, 1905 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel.]

So Shall the Sun of Righteousness Arise

FLORENCE VILLERS BROWN.

A Tender flash eastern sky.
A breeze soft as a light-drawn sigh,
A bird's low note.—the mate's reply,
And day drifts slowly in.

The dawn's dim light, faint filtering through
The dusk, pale blossoms drenched with dew.
Stars fading from their fields of blue
That deepest black have been.

Not with a glare of dazzling light
To stun the senses, blind the sight.
But gently, softly, slow, the night
Emerges into day.

But when the sun's brave light appears,
The night's grim shadows, fancies, fears,
Dark dreams of discord, troubles, tears
Fade silently away.

So o'er this night of error dawn
Those "first faint beams" of coming morn;
Then Light shines forth, and Day is born,
Which is Eternity!

Thus on our slumbering senses shine.
O Thou, who art that Light divine!
Waking. I'll find my likeness Thine,
And satisfied shall be.

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