The Tide of Love

If there were not the rushing of His graceTo stem the backward thoughts that would effaceMy calm, by stinging memories that retraceRegrets, revive misdeeds, old errors base,My heart would low be laid.

But consciousness divine! A flood uprearsOf blessed confidence, my Father hears!His love sweeps in, enfolds me, heartens, cheers:His presence felt, this miracle appears—I stand, no more afraid.

November 21, 1936

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