My Refuge

MABEL A. SALT

O Love divine, whose tenderness no earth-born voice can tell,
In every need I turn to Thee, and in Thy fullness dwell;
The human heartache, fear, and pain, that seem so real to me,
Must vanish at the healing thought of Love's infinity.

Eternal and creative Mind, who saw Thy children good,
Who spake the word, and it was done—creation finished stood—
Thy purpose, man, has always been glad, upright, pure, and free,
For in Thy law there is no trace of mutability.

Man is Mind's image, Love expressed, he is not of the sod;
All he can be, or do, or know, comes from his Father, God.
So when I turn from sense and claim my birthright, shadows flee;
Gone are the heartache, fear, and pain—I stand serene and free.

There is one time, one perfect man, one Father ever near,
And all the claims of mortal sense, the mists of earth so drear,
That always seem to veil the truth, can never make man fall;
God's child was giv'n, and must retain, dominion over all.

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