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Poem November 17, 1923 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

A Clearer Vision

MABEL M. BRIGGS

The mountain peak that seemed so far away,
Is growing nearer as we journey on;
The mist that seemed to hide the light of day,
Is disappearing with the coming dawn.

Sweet intervales of rest in pastures green
We find to cheer us on our upward way.
With grateful hearts we follow the unseen,
Forgetting self as night melts into day.

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