[Written for the Sentinel.]

THE KEY TO THE SCRIPTURES

"There shall be showers of blessings," ran the line;I looked on every side, but saw no sign,—The heavens seemed brass. Said one, "The promise is,A brighter world beyond repays for this."

Slow ran the weary years, begirt with ill,And wrong and greed ruled with relentless will;E'en hope had turned to colorless despair:Had God forgotten—did not answer prayer?

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
FROM OUR EXCHANGES
December 17, 1910
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit