Poem July 25, 1942 Issue

Sanctuary

MAE TUCKER

Through tides of seeming
Fear and stress,
There lies a way
Of loveliness.

In deep recesses
Of the heart,
Where Truth and Love
Their aids impart,
We find in readiness
A room
In whose white silence
Fears consume.

As to this shrine
Love's angels come,
Thought is exalted,
Lips are dumb.
The door is closed
To error's call:
God is revealed
As All-in-all.

Blending our thoughts
With Truth's pure leaven,
Discord recedes,
And leaves us heaven.

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