[Written for the Sentinel]

Largess

To loose the bands of wickedness, that bow
The pilgrim, heavy eyed, nigh to the ground,
Until he clings to shackles as his heritage,
And knows not where Truth's shining towers are found—
What greater gift!

The heavy burdens to undo, the load
The pilgrim bears—to lift him to his feet;
To point the untrammeled way that knows no grievous care,
Where Truth's towers gleam afar, and day is sweet—
What greater gift!

To let the oppressed go free from pain, disease;
The pilgrim's eyes, to Truth's bright towers upturned,
Reflect their glow. His journey's goal is certainty,
Dearer than ease from pain, for which he yearned—
What greater gift!

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January 20, 1917
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