Poem March 14, 1936 ISSUE

My Path

CECIL C. BONHAM

My fingers, busy with their tasks,
Pursue a homely round
Of never-ending, weary work;
My lagging feet seem bound.
But, oh! I know a secret path
That foot has never trod,
Where I may take my troubled thoughts
And walk and talk with God.

As Moses talked, I talk with Him;
His thoughts, forever true,
Dispel the dream, and I behold
The man of perfect hue.
O Father, Mind, Thou art my Life,
And I abide in Thee,
Though bound my feet, my thoughts may take
The way to liberty.

And I shall serve with loving hands
And help to till the sod,
That other men may find the path
That leads them home to God.

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