[Written for the Sentinel.]

Out of the Depths

Where art Thou, Lord? A thousand voices call,
And saddened hearts reach out for Thee in vain.
Can no light pierce the gloom or lift the pall
That hides Thy healing from a world of pain?

Where art Thou, Truth? Within a dwelling mean
A humble heart rejoices. One has found
Above earth's poverty, by sense unseen,
The healing Christ; good doth for all abound!

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September 20, 1919

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