Poem September 11, 1948 Issue

THE GENTLE WORD

Edna Wise West

The gentle word has power beyond compare—
Its scope is infinite; with what sweet grace
Its utterance falls upon the heart
Long bruised by harshness. Ever,
Where the gentle word is spoken, there
Its fragrance lingers to delight and bless,
Healing dark hatred, strife, and bitterness:
Its mercies trace
The way of Love,
And pride and grim imperiousness take flight
Before its tender, all-embracing might.

Some trust in chariots,
Some in the sword—
But I must ever trust
The gentle word!

Edna Wise West

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A CONTINUAL SHOWER OF BLESSINGS
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