Poem May 26, 1945 Issue

The Preacher

HELEN H. JONES

How many years, how long ago, a wise
Man said, Remember thy creator in
The days of youth; remember lest the skies
Be darkened, lest the silver cord wear thin.
Such wisdom in those times was justified.
And when our Leader searched the Scriptures through.
Forgetting self, forgetting human pride.
Truth flowed the world from this pure avenue.

True, in the world of books there is no end—
Yet one book, opened with a priceless key.
Is the redeemer, is the constant friend
In every age, wherever man may be.
Upon what hillside are the young now told
That which is written with a pen of gold?