Poem February 18, 1933 Issue

"Though I walk through the valley"

ALMA G. V. HARRISON

Above the valley, mountain tops show clear
As o'er their summits slowly spreads the dawn;
The shadows vanish where the light is born:
Lift to the hills thine eyes, and have no fear.
See, radiant visions on those heights appear,
Bright harbingers of Love's eternal morn;
Now of its terrors is the darkness shorn,
The dreamer wakens—and the day is here!
Pause not in doubt, nor lingering look back;
Shall Love forsake, when most thou need'st His care?

He who once passed this way with thorn-crowned brow
Was led by Love upon the upward track;
And that same Love doth still thy burdens bear,
Nor of a surety will He fail thee now.

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