Poem February 22, 1919 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

The Upward Path

FRANCES A. HALDANE

Let me not be a channel, Love divine,
For any secret hate or open strife:
The thought that leads to Thee, though sore beset,
Must hold one in the sense of perfect life.

Let me not, in the jostling of the throng,
Another from the onward pathway thrust:
May I be glad that every one hath rights
Equal to mine in all that's good and just.

Let neither injured pride nor envy barb
The unseen arrow of a fleeting thought:
Thus will I have no fellowship with Cain,
Nor, Judas-like, as error's thrall be bought.

Make me to drink deep at the fount of Love;
Keep me, when tempted, in the narrow way:
So shall I see more of Life's radiance,
And all the darkness turn to perfect day.

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