[Written for the Sentinel.]


The Father called His child. She, answering, stood;
Then inly-wise unfolding years fled straightly on,
Till youth timed her its measure and was gone,
And promise called at dawn of womanhood.

But lo, earth's promises disclosed but fears;
Much chastening she bore. Long yearned the piercèd heart
Of her whom Truth had called apart
To purify; full measure fell of crystal tears.

Yea, outstretched hands seemed turned aside nor blest
Where, creed wise, many stumbled in the way
Of a conjectural and sense-dimmed day.
Her intuition clear benignity exprest;

Philanthropies she knew, neared comfort's art;
Of God divinest skill at length she learned;
Through gentle years, with thrust in sickle, she returned
Discomfort to its nothingness apart.

The path of one who, steadfast, comforted,
Awaits the tread of others living such
Sweet lives of sympathy and Christlike touch.
Wilt follow one who followed God where'er He led?

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From Our Exchanges
March 6, 1915

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