Poem January 31, 1914 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Dawn of Truth

G. BRUCE STAUFFER

Wearied am I of chasing
The fleeting phantoms of sin,
That lured me on
With wine and song
Life's pleasures gay to win;
Yet in my round
No peace I found,
But misery and sorrow's kin.

Thus stop I in my folly
To see my quest in vain:
The law of lust
Is dust to dust,
The dirge of death the strain
That sweeps the past
As though 'twould ask,
Thou fool, was God to blame?

Truth comes! O'er black despair
Of wasted years, of hope dismayed,
This dawn of peace
Bids passions cease:
Peace in God's great love is made.
Sin's shadows flee,
For Truth doth free
From mortal ills. Be not afraid.

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