Poem June 2, 1923 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Twilight Peace

ELISABETH G. ROBINSON

At twilight comes a thought of peace,
A heart at rest;
The Father's tender, loving care
One findeth best.

The glory of the evening sky
His touch doth tell;
The quiet brooding over all,
A holy spell.

The faint, sweet evening song of birds;
The rustling trees;
The twinkling stars that friendly gaze;
Soft southern breeze;

The silver moon that rides the cloud;
The ocean's sigh;
A mother's voice raised soft in prayer;
A lullaby;

Happy the one who feels in these
The gift of God,
A token of the Father's love,
A staff—His rod,

And heav'nly peace the heart within,
A holy calm;
More love for God and fellow-man:
My life—my psalm!

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