The Temple

There is a holy place of rest where, entering in,
We may unclasp the hold of earth's despair,
A secret place wherein pure peace abides—
The temple of the inward heart of prayer.

Here angel thoughts appear, to heal and bless;
Divine communion brings renewal sweet;
Here burdens fall until, unshackled, free,
We walk the upward way with winged feet.

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
Signs of the Times
September 11, 1943
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit