O Winds of Truth

O Winds of Truth, sweep clean our upward pathway;Drive from before us all our doubts and fears;Bear from the portals of our thoughts dead dogmas,The false beliefs that clutter up the years!

Lift high, and scatter dark and dire forebodings;Drive from our skies wild clouds that hide the day.Take from our troubled hearts the world's confusion;Oh, fan Love's flame, which burns the chaff away.

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Editorial
My Brother's Keeper
January 9, 1943
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