[Written for the Sentinel]


How harsh the din of worldly strife!
How grievous mortal hate and fear!
But'mid the tumult, calm and clear,
A voice awakes to holier life.

Thy struggles end, unsatisfied
With the unworthy aim thou hast;
Thy prize a phantom seen at last,
Which seeking e'er thy hope belied.

Ah, well that thou didst cease at length
To chase the fancies of thy thought!
Ah, well that thou wast gently brought
To know the source of life and strength!

To know the truth that ne'er doth fail
To guide thy onward course aright,
In happy day or gloomy night,
Till thou the heights of Spirit scale.

And that sweet voice which wakened thee?
'Twas Love that spake unto thy heart;
That bade thee from earth's paths depart,
And made thine eyes the way to see.

Aye, Love! A friend forever near!
What joy, what peace indeed is thine,
Since thous didst erring ways resign
And sought Love's guiding voice to hear!

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

From Our Exchanges
May 30, 1914

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.