Poem November 25, 1944 Issue

"The cup of blessing"

Mary Mortley Hays

Dear heart , you have a cup to drink.
"A cup," you say,
"Rimmed round with beads of agony,
Its metal base, its potion bitter?"' Nay.

If you will lift the cup to that warm glow
Of Life and Love the Master knew,
Then, lo.
The tears therein will change to wine—
Love's inspiration.

The beads of agony
That love of self did match
Will turn to pearls through love of God.
Their shining luster, radiant, catch
Heaven's own reflection.

The cup itself will gleam
Transmuted, gold.
And men led by its tender beam
The truth behold:
Life's God—perfection.

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November 25, 1944

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