TRANSITION

MARY L. CUMMINS

"Where art thou?"—thou false fear of threat'ning ill,
Thou vague materiality, lurking still
In some far-hidden undergrowth of thought,
Or some unyielding clutch of human will!

Adam, come forth! Show to omnipotence
The stumbling, trembling form of finite sense.
Reveal thyself for what thou art, and know
The weakness of thy wavering defense!

Forth from the garden of enlightened thought,
Back to the utter baselessness of naught
Thou needs must go, that in thy place may come
The quick'ning Spirit revelation brought.

Now the last Adam—Christ, the Truth—is near,
Uprooting every noxious weed of fear;
Bringing a mental garden of the Lord,
Proving that paradise is now and here.

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