[Written for the Sentinel]

Living Joy

Our lives are not the dark, despairing dreamsThat poor deluded mortals sadly say;The blackest night, the heaviest storm-cloud seemsEver to usher in the brighest day.

No "sob between the silences," but free,A joyous song, courageous, thrilling, brave,Triumphant notes of Spirit victoryO'er sin and pain and sorrow and the grave.

September 3, 1921
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