Poem April 15, 1911 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel.]

THE MIST DISPELLED

JEANIE F. GIBB

As creeps the mist o'er hill and glen
All silently, and shuts from sight
The sun that cheers the hearts of men
And makes all nature glad and bright,

So steals before our inner sight
At times the mist of mortal sense,
And gone is Truth's all-glorious light—
We stumble in the darkness dense.

Now is the time to work and pray,
With calm and joyful confidence
That Truth will chase the mist away—
That mist of false material sense.

Since God is All, naught else can be.
No sin, nor sorrow, death nor pain
May jar upon that harmony
Where Truth and Love forever reign.

Yes, God is Love and Truth and Life—
"I am the First and I the Last."
Since God is Love, there is no strife,—
The mist is gone, the darkness past.

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