[Written for the Sentinel]

Awakening

When spring came creeping o'er the earth,
The little plants awoke.
They felt the love and sunshine,
And heard the Voice that spoke.
And then the birds came hurrying,
Like heralds from above.
The lark sang out in ecstasy,
"Our God is Love."

Then stirred within the heart of me
An echo to that song.
I felt the throb and pulse of love,
That had been still so long.
And with this throated, fairy sprite,
Melodious from above,
I joined my voice in joy, and sang,
"Our God is Love."

So must the sleeping world awake
To peace, and joy, and life.
Then gone will be all hatred,
And stilled will be all strife.
And with His chosen messengers,
Which God sent from above,
We all can think, and know, and prove
That God is Love.

For every vibrant touch of Love
Awakes the sleeping sense
To see the nothingness of pain,
And sorrow, and suspense;
To see God's glorious universe,
Beneath, around, above,

As perfect, telling us thereby,
That God is Love.

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