Of skies at dawn men's voices tell,
Of sun-drenched meadows, blossom bright,
Of moonlight's white, enchanted spell—
The while he walks through moonless night.

But what is this? Who passes by?
Be of good cheer; he calleth thee!
In answer to a heart-sent cry
He that was blind is made to see.

O world lost in a night of fear,
O blind world groping for release—
Love calleth thee; be of good cheer!
Love lights thy path to joy and peace.

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January 23, 1937

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