Poem October 30, 1909 ISSUE

Out of th' abysmal past,...

T. E. Scantlin

Out of th' abysmal past,
Up from the Stygian darkness drawn,
Into the light at last—
gate unbarred—escapes the dawn.
The truth hath set me free:
Bleak chaos and old night succumb.
Lord, ever up to Thee,
On wings of love, I come! I come!

T. E. Scantlin.

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