A Prayer

KATHRINE SCOBEY PUTNAM

I Rose and missed the glowing light
That yestermorn had made earth bright,
And glancing westward thrilled to see
The flaming red sent back to me
From windows in an old barn loft,
Which glowed like jewels rich and soft.

I turned, and through the house still gray,
Ran east to greet the dawning day.
The sun! The source! How calm it seemed!
Untroubled through the mists it gleamed!

May I so live, reflecting light,
That others, though engulfed in night,
May catch the gleam, and feel the urge
That drives them on, though billows surge,
To find the light, the source, the sun,
The living God, the perfect One!

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