Poem February 23, 1935 Issue

Our Master

ELLA A. STONE

Dear Master , when we think of thee,
The centuries fall away,
We walk with thee beside the sea,
And hear thy voice today.

We feel the tenderness and peace
That drew men long ago,
The Father's all-enfolding love,
Which thou didst ever show.

We feel the purity and joy
That ever drew to thee
The happy, gleeful little ones
In far-off Galilee.

And then, O Master, close and dear,
We seem to hear thee say:
Look not with longing to the past,
I am with you alway.

And oh, what joy lies in those words,
For then we truly feel
The dear Christ-presence with us now
To bless, and guide, and heal.

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