Poem September 1, 1934 Issue

Reclothed

OLIVE M. FLETCHER

Clothed and in his rightful mind,
'Tis thus the maniac they find.
Gone are the fetters—gone the fears
That bound him fast for many years.
Gone from that heart its weight of pain,
Those haunting shadows—and now sane,
Reclothed, in garments spotless white,
His face aglow with holy light,
He sits in peace at Jesus' feet.

God's perfect man the Master saw,
And that true vision did restore
And set the captive free.
Though Legion was the evil claim,
It all was vanquished in Truth's name,
Destroyed forevermore.

And we, when evil seems so real,
That loving, healing touch may feel.
For Christ still speaks to you and me,
Casts out the devil—sets us free;
In spite of error's seeming might,
To our dim vision brings the light
Of glorious freedom. Then, as he—
Reclothed in sweet humility—
We sit at Christ's dear feet.

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