Poem November 1, 1947 Issue

VISIT TO THE MOTHER CHURCH

Jacqueline O'Brien

A pure, sweet calm of restful silence came
To hold my thought, and from the dome a glow
As soft as moonbeams wrapped me in the same
Deep love the Master gave to friend and foe.
Then through this sacred stillness burst a song
Of praise to God so mighty that I wept.
Standing within the presence of this strong
And earnest hand of followers who kept
Our Leader's Cause a living faith, I knew
No fear, no trial, pain, or any test
Could swerve me from my purpose to be true
To Principle. Make me a worthy guest,
I prayed, grateful for bounties from Love's fare,
And, leaving, take this holiness to share.

Jacqueline O'Brien

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