Poem January 29, 1938 Issue

Peace

MARION SUSAN CAMPBELL

My thoughts have come to rest,
As quietly as smooth-winged gulls fly home,
Or tired waves touch the cool sands at even.

I have torn down my dark and treacherous sail,
To do Thy will,
The unrest quieted, the anchor cast.

Love, should I dreaming see again
Those cold green hollows, or the slanting rain,
Bid me to come to Thee upon the waters!

For now I know
How near Thy outstretched hand is,
Oh, how near!

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