[Written for the Sentinel]

Paul and Silas

How clear your vision; how serene your trust,
Brave gospel messengers! Though basely served,
Afflicted sore; in loathsome dungeon thrust;
By cruel stocks confined—all undeserved—
Yet, at black midnight's hour, united voice
Uplifting gratefully, ye waited not
The moment of deliverance to rejoice.
Full well ye knew such ruthless, unjust lot
No part of governance of Love divine,
Hence but a passing phase of human sense.
In answer swift the quaking earth gave sign
The wrath of man yields to omnipotence.

I, too, would learn this lesson—to sing praise
When error's bondage claims to hold me fast.
For, as above the seeming ill I raise
Truth-lighted thought, and wholly from me cast
False mortal evidence, true freedom waits
My praiseful affirmations, just at hand.
Then, howsoe'er entangled in dire straits,
I'll hymn my gratitude and firmly stand
In Christly liberty, assured no wrong—
Since baseless and unreal—can outstay
God's nearness realized. The night-time song,
Is sure forerunner of glad freedom's day!

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

December 3, 1927

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.