From out the corner, when the fire is low,Come all the woes and cares I used to know,To pass in still array before my eyes,The little heartaches, all the tears and sighs.In vain they stretch their shadowy hands and nod;They cannot claim me now—I walk with God!

The old distrust, the coldness, envy, doubt,The love of self that shadows all about,The solid wall that blocked my footsteps slow,Have all dissolved to shadows as I go.Shadows, beneath my feet as soft as sod,They shall not hold me, for I walk with God.

February 9, 1935

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