Poem November 26, 1938 Issue

The Comforter

LAURA M. DOWNEY

O Science , thou of royal mien,
How blest the hearts that on thee lean,
Seeing the things so long unseen
By blinded mortal eyes!

Thou camest as foretold of yore
By our blest Master, and the door
Stands open wide, and evermore
All good before us lies.

The promised Comforter thou art
By which all those who know in part
Discern with trembling, longing heart
The joys thou dost bestow.

Nor past, nor future—here and now
Those who to mortal law did bow,
With clearer sight thou dost endow,
That everyone may know

The freedom that our Master own,
That each may know himself God's son.
The work of Principle is done:
'Tis ours but to accept

The gift beyond all rubies' worth:
To see that heaven is here on earth,
Our lives transformed by Soul's rebirth,
Ourselves by Spirit kept.

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