Poem March 19, 1938 ISSUE

The Open Door

VERA CONSTANCE HOWARD

Are all the doors about thee closedBy sickness, fear, or care?Through lack of opportunity,Or loads too great to bear?Rejoice! 'Tis time to prove untrueThe senses' clamorous din;Turn from the strain and stress without—Thy Saviour is within!

Reach forth thy hand in trust, though doubtAnd fear becloud the hour;In wounds, however deeply seared,Feel Christ, Truth's healing power,The Word that stills all error's claimsWith tenderness and might,Bringing, where darkness seemed to reign,An all-revealing light.

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