[Written for the Sentinel]

My God Is There

Where the rich blossoms of the springtime sway,And flash their colors in the rising sun,And seem to breathe out, opening one by one,A little prayer to bless the newborn day—My God is there.

Where the bright glories of the sunlight beat,And hope sings high, wrapped in the joy of noon,I press close to my heart Love's wondrous boon;Secure in this my present, sure retreat,I rest in prayer.

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Signs of the Times
March 5, 1927
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