Poem March 9, 1940 Issue

Rest

MARY C. REYNOLDS

There is rest for the bird that eagerly homeward is winging
In the quiet of even—sweet rest from his soaring and singing.
But what rest like the rest awaiting the heart that is yearning
For heavenly comfort and homeward toward Spirit is turning!

There is peace in the stillness of twilight with only birds calling,
While softly over the world silver shadows are falling.
But what peace like the heavenly peace that comes tenderly stealing
O'er the heart that is seeking for God, bringing comfort and
healing!

Falling lighter than gentlest dew in the hush of the even,
With a quiet all holy of Spirit, comes Truth's blessèd balm.
At its touch pain is stilled, fear is vanquished, and earth becomes
heaven,
And the longing heart, resting in Love, knows a wonderful calm!

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