Poem March 19, 1921 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel]

To Him that Hath

EVELINE A. ELLIS

If only midst our busy life that seemsAn endless toil of patient strife, there comesOne tiny understanding thought of God,Then all is well.

That thought so small, yet earnest and sincere,Is multiplied, and gradually comes clearWith swelling song of ecstasy and peace:In Him we dwell.

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