Poem September 10, 1932 Issue

Our Dwelling Place

AMY CAROLINE THROSSELL

Our dwelling place in Thee, O Lord,
Before the mountains were,
Before the hills and valleys bloomed
In radiant joy secure!

In secret place of high abode,
Above the mists of earth,
We find our rest, our joy, our all,
In Thee, our spiritual birth.

No plague, no pestilence come nigh,
No evil can befall,
When peace of God with brooding wing
Is hovering over all.

Here angels of His presence bear
All least desire or thought,
Which, reaching out for fuller breath,
Into His light is brought;

Thus to be molded, chiseled fine,
In form of word and deed,
Which faring forth from heavenly source,
Meet every human need.

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September 10, 1932

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