Poem February 8, 1936 Issue

The Mighty Ones

MARIAN GREGG

Oh, pilgrim, when your journeys lead
Through lonely marsh or dreadful height;
When dragons, swollen with lust and greed,
Obstruct your way; or lurking fear
Skulks, out of sight, but ever near,
And you must either turn or fight,
All suddenly, your timid prayer
Is charged with strength; a flaming dart
You hold, and on the pathway there
Firm foothold gain; a holy light
Surrounds your struggle for the right,
And victory sings within your heart;

In grateful awe your paeans say,
Michael has fought for you this day.

When prone you lie amid the heap
Of human hopes, and humbly cry
For comfort from deep pain, and weep,
Because your feet have wandered far,
Out of your night, which holds no star,
You see a glorious one draw nigh.
His gentle touch dispels your woe.
He calls your name and bids you rise.
He says: Be strong, look up and know
No grief can bind you to the earth.
This travail but proclaims the birth
Of greater thought, and love more wise.

Sing, pilgrim, glorious tidings tell,
For you have talked with Gabriel.

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