Poem March 11, 1933 ISSUE

Healing

MARGARET MORRISON

Unto thy door may come some dayOne to be healed; and sense will say:Here is a man by sin insnared,Nothing of evil has been sparedTo make for him full wretchedness,To bow him low beneath earth's stress;Poverty-stricken, ill, afraid,Hopeless is he—beyond all aid.Take heed! Oh, heed how thou dost hear!Let not thy heart respond to fear.Be quiet, listen prayerfully,Truth's voice will say again to thee:Cease ye from man unlike his God,Bring thought beneath Love's chastening rod,And, purified, thy vision clearShall know the Christ forever here;Shall know man free and richly blestWith Spirit's wealth made manifest,Untouched by the accuser's claim,No matter what its state or name.From perfect Mind look out and seeThat Mind reflected perfectly.With testimony false have done.This is My beloved son.

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