Poem March 22, 1913 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel.]

GLIMPSE OF PEACE

LUCILLE TINNIN.

Awake , sweet lyres of heavenly peace,
The morn of Love is breaking clear;
The fitful, moaning surges cease,
Eternal shores are gleaming near.

The birdlings in their feathery folds
Fast blend their songs from leafy bough;
The joy each little throat outflings
Must reach the heavenly chorus now.

Thy measures sweep my heart-strings o'er,
And tune them to thy heavenly strain;
Thy love-tones echo more and more,
From hill and vale and all the plain.

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