Poem February 17, 1917 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Apocalypse

RUTH INGRAHAM

We long have dwelt in twilight dim,
Like children half afraid;
In lights and shadows of a dream
Together we have played,
Or, holding each the other's hand,
Forward a little strayed.

Mount up, mount up! See how the cloud
Is melting into light!
Oh, hasten, comrade, up the path,
And from this splendid height
See the glad tidings reach a world
Redeemed from its long night!

The time-world is a shadow grown,
The light of Truth floods in:
Oh, watch with me this growing dawn
And see God's day begin,—
The glory of eternal "now,"
The end of death and sin!

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February 17, 1917
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