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Poem June 27, 1942 Issue

Restitution

MILES BUCKSTON WATTS

At Truth's clear spring I stoop to drink again,
And somber shapes of sorrow, sin, and pain
Withdraw. I rise replete, restored, refreshed;
Stilled is my throbbing thought by fear enmeshed.
Oh, joy that I in Love's pure depths may see
Myself as God hath made me, whole and free!

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