Poem January 15, 1949 Issue

"UNTIL SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN"

Leona B. Kemper

From out the vastness of God's love
Comes nought but love,
And Love is all.
Why struggle, then, with heavy heart,
To forgive a wrong that has no part
In Love?

All wrong is but a dream of sense,
And of a dream we would not say,
"How often should we forgive?"
But rather would we turn away
And know that sin—unreal—
Has never touched the child of God,
The Christ-ideal.

Leona B. Kemper

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