Poem March 30, 1918 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel]

At-one-ment

CHARLES C. SANDELIN

As gently as the dew on tender flower,Comes to the heart Love's holy, healing power;As lightly as the breeze in summer air,Truth clears the mist of sense that lodgeth there.

Truth does not change! Each child of God must beHis perfect image through eternity;Thine eyes but open to a wider range—The truth of being time can never change.

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