Poem July 28, 1945 Issue

Tithes

MABLE I. CLAPP

The day was lowering and filled with trouble,
With cares that fretted, worries that would not cease;
I lifted thought above the human tumult
For help, to find again the paths of peace.

And suddenly there flooded all my being,
Like gentle rains upon a parched plain,
The memory of trouble eased, of burdens lifted,
Of hope restored, of peace replacing pain,
Of barren lives that fruited in abundance,
Of sickness healed, of death's cold presence stayed,
Of living filled with peace and joy and comfort,
Where once it had been troubled and afraid.

Lord, keep me ever grateful, let me bring
All tithes into Thy storehouse,
Knowing that in their train
Blessings will follow, as blossoms after rain.

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